Commander: The Lost Logs
by Ghost of Los Angeles
Summary: These are the logs that Drich wrote after the end of the aborted collaborative Mass Effect Arc done with Drich, faith, Fusou and Tikitau but before Drich rewrote hir version. Crossposted with permission.
1. Lost Logs 1-13

**Compilers Note: These are the logs that Drich Wrote between after the end of the aborted collaborative Mass Effect Arc are done between Drich, faith, Battleship_Fusou and Tikitau before Drich rewrote hir version which is by the way awesome.**

Lost Log 1

I had never gone back to the universes I'd previously been to. In four cases, it wasn't necessary, as I'd maintained a permanent presence in them. In the universes of Armored Core, Homeworld, and Fafner, everything was going pretty well.

Life continued as usual in Fafner.

The Hiigarans were a rising power in Homeworld, supported by and supporting the Taiidan Republic. The Bentusi watched them, still waiting for the Hiigarans to realize what their Mothership held, but until then wandering around the galaxy as they were wont to do.

In Armored Core, the planet was slowly being purified, healing from the wounds inflicted by rampant use of Kojima technology. A couple warlord still roamed around, but ORCA was taking care of them when they popped up.

The universe I had recovered Anastasia from, the Planetary Annihilation universe, I suppose, was pretty calm. My ships had searched the galaxy, but aside from wrecks, sites of battles, and the occasional bit of organic life that hadn't been wiped out, there was nothing remaining of note.

We had, of course, expanded our search, but...

Well, we checked the entire universe. Progenitors were nowhere to be found. Intelligent life, sure, but the Progenitors? Not even a hint.

Which had raised... a number of questions that we still didn't have answers to.

Either way, the other three universes were the ones where I didn't know what was happening. I had left quite literally nothing behind in C&C, and so I had no idea what was going on over there. In Supreme Commander, the only thing that we had present was a disconnected Warp Chasm, which, as one might guess, did not provide a particularly large amount of information about what was happening around it.

In Universe at War, the sum total of our assets present were five communicators, one for Queen Altea, one for Orlok, one for the Novus, one for General Moore, and the last for whoever General Moore gave it to. Exactly none had been used, because apparently nobody found it necessary to contact me.

Of course, there was also Mass Effect, but I had literally just come from that one, so it was effectively irrelevant.

I kind of wanted to know how things were going in those universes. It would be easy to find out in the case of Supreme Commander and Universe at War, but C&C...

Well, it might be, and it might not be. I wasn't entirely certain whether or not I could get back. Theoretically, setting the Teleporter to point at the bright blue star again would do it, but...

Well, let's find out.

An Asura Commander appeared in front of the Teleporter, already moving towards it. The glowing portal appeared instantly, targeting the star.

It ducked through-

And yes. Yes I could get there again.

Planet looks rather nice, actually. Much less Tiberium, now. Control nodes, based off the designs I had given to the GDI so long ago, were present on the surface, spread out over blue and yellow zones, making sure the Tiberium wouldn't come back.

Well, they seemed to have that pretty well in hand.

Scrin? No Scrin. The GDI seemed to have developed a pretty extensive network of orbital Ion Cannons, pointing away from the planet, along with other satellites.

Kane? In super-high security prison, guarded by the absolute best GDI had. They'd spared no expense in containing him. A number of other high-profile Brotherhood of Nod personnel were there with him.

Probably didn't want him to be a martyr.

Well, they seemed to have everything well in hand.

Good for them.

Time branched. My Commander transitioned in Phase Space, headed to Alpha Centauri, and constructed enough Strongholds to scout the universe in short order. The possible future collapsed a second after it was formed, and my Commander set off to do it for real.

In about four hundred years, an asteroid laced with Tiberium would hit a planet. I intended to deflect it when that happened, as the planet in question was inhabited by beings who wouldn't be able to survive it.

Right, done here. Let's see, next...

Hmm. Do I want to go to Supreme Commander or Universe at War next?

Eh... By my reckoning, it'd be around mid-day on the Atlatea. Universe at War, then. Altea was a good friend.

Let's see...

The day was pleasantly cool. The wind blew, carrying autumn leaves throughout the city, tugging at strands of hair. The sun was warm, the sky blue, and decorated with white clouds here and there. The slow pulse of life in the air was as comforting as the sun, warm and pleasant.

Queen Altea held a book in her hands, reclining in a grand seat, simply enjoying the day. For once, she had no diplomatic duties, no need to act as a leader. Instead, she had a precious gift of free time.

Her clothes reflected the rare moment. Her headdress wasn't present, and the long, flowing garb she usually wore had been replaced with a shorter, though still long and ornate by most standards, dress. The book in her hands was one of fiction, telling a lengthy tale of magic and adventure.

A guilty pleasure, yes. She sometimes wondered if the reason Zessus was so free-spirited today was because she had spent so much time reading such books to him in his youth.

A cheerful tune rang out, startling her from the peace. For a moment, she was confused as to where it came from, before realization set in.

Slowly, daintily, she reached into a hidden pocket of her dress, pulling out a small, chrome, black, and blue device.

The cheerful tunes still rang out, and for a moment, she stared at it.

She had carried this device for nearly two decades. It rarely left her person, never too far out of reach. Still, it had never been used.

She tapped it, softly. The noise immediately stopped, and she felt a very familiar psychic power bleed through.

"Hello, Queen Altea. How are you doing?"

Lost Log 2

"It's good to see you again." I smiled at the Queen.

She gave a slight smile in turn, couple with a nod.

"What brings you here to visit?" She asked.

"Not much." I waved my hand. A pair of cups, and a number of bottles, appeared on the table between us, coalescing from golden energy. "I was just wandering around when I realized that it's been nearly two decades since the last time I saw you."

She picked up and examined one of the bottles I'd created, somehow making the action look elegant. "And so you decided to visit."

I leaned forwards, my smile twisting into something that resembled a pout. "Am I not welcome anymore?"

She smiled again, a faint laugh escaping. "Of course you are."

I grinned, then picked up a bottle and poured myself a drink. "So, how have things been?"

She followed suit, pouring a drink of her own. "Well enough, I suppose. Tense, when it came to Orlok and his followers, but that was to be expected."

I nodded, holding my glass out.

She clinked it with her own a moment later. "Orlok left for Mars not long after you left." She took a sip.

Her eyes widened, and she held the glass out, examining it. "Very tasty."

"Thank you. I had a feeling you'd like it." I took a sip from my own cup, enjoying the sweet, yet cold liquid.

"Zessus has been..." She continued after a moment, before trailing off.

"Zessus?" I offered.

She nodded, an air of motherly exasperation about her. "He is as impulsive as always. He has been wandering the planet in search of adventure."

"I hope he's having fun."

"He seems to be." Altea's head tipped to the side. "The Novus have been helpful, though many of them have retreated to Lieta Novus. Mirabel remains on this planet."

"She's interested in the life here. Until Earth, she hadn't met any form of organic life." I noted. "And the Novus... They're trying to revive the Quyion, aren't they?"

She nodded. "The Humans have been... rebuilding, but it is slow. They lost much of their population, much of their infrastructure, and much of their governments. We have been offering help, as have the Novus, but even so..."

"These things take time." I finished for her.

"We always knew they would. We discussed exactly that, the last time you were here."

That we did.

"Well, that's enough about that morbid topic." I leaned forwards, my eyes a bit wide, and my mouth set in a grin. An air of faux-secrecy surrounded me. "Do you want to see something really cool?"

She let out a noise of curiosity, her head tilting to the side.

I held my hand out, pointer finger stretched out. "Watch this."

A Worm Sphere burst into existence above my finger, expanding to the size of a basketball.

Altea blinked.

"There you go." I smiled at Altea.

Her arm was extended, fingers splayed and palm pointed at a wall. That wall had a hole in it, curtesy of a Worm Sphere that Altea had just generated.

"Fascinating, but odd." She murmured.

"Useful, too." I noted. "You can use it as a weapon, for teleportation, and if you're really good at it, you can shape it into pretty much anything." I demonstrated, summoning a chakram-shaped Worm, like those used by the Diablo-Types. It shifted, changing to a disk, then a lengthy sword, and then began cycling through dozens of simple shapes.

She gave a nod, examining the Worm as it changed. "Where did you learn this?"

"From a species known as the Festum. Very strange beings, but also very powerful." I'd give them that.

I leaned forwards, propping my elbows up on the table and resting my head in my hands.

"Strange?" She looked up.

I nodded. "Yep. They were a psychic hivemind who didn't have concepts of individuality, sensation, or emotion." I quirked a smile. "Understandably, they had a rather unique psychology."

"I see." She held her hands out, as if cupping something. A short moment later, a Worm Sphere bloomed, small, at first, but growing larger as she channelled more energy and focused.

"You got the hang of it pretty quickly." I complimented. "Alright, I'll teach you how to teleport with them."

"Nice place you got here, Mirabel." I examined the building.

As typical of Novus design, the building was tall, bright silver, and filled to the brim with electronics. Strings of bright blue light connected it to the dozens of other Novus constructions laying around. The occasional cloud of disassembled Novus nanomachines rushed along the Flow Network, robots in transit to different locations.

The location was in the wastes of Russia, one of the areas that had been hit by the Hierarchy in the first stages of the invasion. Radiation, plasma, and heat had shortly rendered the area uninhabitable for Human life, and what little that remained after the Hierarchy was through with it had shortly fled.

The Novus was cleaning it up. Mirabel had been the one to establish the operation, and, now, it the most expansive site of Novus construction on the planet, with the Flow Network stretching halfway across Russia.

"Thank you." Mirabel herself hadn't changed a bit. Granted, neither had Altea or I, but in her case, she wasn't ageless like the Masari or myself.

Or, not naturally so, anyway. The reason she hadn't aged was because Novus gene-therapy had kept her young and strong.

"Hello, Viktor." I greeted the mech, currently standing guard.

I got a garbled greeting in return. Viktor, it seemed, also hadn't changed a bit, still speaking in Quyion language.

"Have to say, I was surprised to hear you came back." She smiled, though a bit of worry tinged her features. "Bad news?"

I chuckled. "No, just a visit. I wanted to see how you were all going."

The worry vanished, and, for a moment, she seemed a bit wry. "Ah. Well, that's good."

I smiled. "So, how have you been?"

Lost Log 3

"Hello again, Founder." I hummed to myself as I walked forwards.

The moon was not where I had expected to locate the Founder, but then, it wasn't all that surprising, either. The Novus maintained a large amount of stations and constructions on the moon, most of them meant for resourcing operations. A couple resource rich asteroids had been towed into orbit by the Novus, pulled from the asteroid belt, which was where Vertigo currently was.

The resources they harvested went mostly to rebuilding Earth, though a significant amount flowed back into the Novus' own operations. Even now, they were still expanding, constructing starships for various purposes.

A few Masari buildings were also present. Monitoring stations, mostly, connected to other stations around the galaxy, all employing the Masari's powerful technology to keep a watchful eye on the events that were occurring in the galaxy. Perhaps a wasted effort, as there wasn't anything actually happening, but hey.

If they wanted to put down dozens of monitors all over the place, who was I to stop them?

The other bits of Masari construction kept the area liveable for Masari. Gravity had been heightened in the local area to about ninety five percent of Earth's, while a large, golden energy field kept the atmosphere in.

"Drich." He greeted, levitating slightly above the ground. "A social visit?"

"Yep." I nodded. "So, how have you been doing, lately?"

Not all that different, it turned out. The Founder still oversaw operations on Earth, and on Lieta Novus. He told me that the project to revive the Quyion was proceeding slowly, but they had some promising results.

Hoped that worked out for them. The Novus deserved a bit of hope.

But aside from that, all he'd been doing is play the political game with Human governments, and keep a watchful eye on Orlok's forces. So, business as usual.

Speaking of Orlok...

"Well, you seem to have done well for yourself, Orlok." Despite having retreated to Mars, they hadn't set down permanently.

They still lived on their ships, keeping to the closed archologies where it was easiest to sustain them. Still, they'd set up some mining operations on Mars' surface, extracting what resources they needed.

Orlok had made sure that they didn't fall back into the Hierarchy's insatiable lust for resources. They'd kept a significant stockpile, but aside from that, weren't pulling up too much.

Granted, they also didn't have many things they could do with those resources. The Hierarchy didn't exactly have much in the way of culture, and Orlok's renegades weren't all that different. Still, most of them found not having to fight endlessly to be a relief, even if, at times, it could be boring.

"Greetings." Orlok's head turned slightly. He was sporting a new coat of paint, his chassis now more red than black.

"So, how have things been?"

Tense, it seemed. Still, Orlok kept everything together by being a good ruler. There had apparently been an attempted coup a while back, a few soldiers wishing to seize power. Orlok had reminded them, politely, that he had been the Hierarchy General for a very, very good reason.

There had been no more attempted coups after that. Which might or might not have been because Orlok had bludgeoned the attempted coupers with his crusher arm in front of half the ship. That, combined with the fact that he was still a fairly reasonable leader, lead to most deciding that it wasn't worth risking Orlok's fury.

Personally, I wondered what possessed them to think they could possibly win against Orlok, who's about five times the size of the average soldier, without the support of far more troops than they actually had.

Oh well. Their mistake.

I knocked on the door.

Hawaii was nice this time of year. It hadn't taken all that much damage in the Hierarchy attack, all things considered, so it was rebuilt rather quickly. The house I was in front of seemed to be a fairly normal one, with nothing out of the ordinary.

That was even true, with the exception of its occupant.

A few thudding footsteps later, and the door opened. "Who are you and what do you..."

The man trailed off, seeing me. "Oh. You."

"Good morning, General Moore."

He straightened up, waving his hand in the air. "Not a General. I'm retired now." He opened the door wider, inviting me inside.

Randal Moore had aged fairly well, all things considered. The man was over sixty, yet he was still fit. His hair was grey, and he had some spots on his skin, but he was doing well.

He grabbed a bottle of beer from his fridge, before taking a seat at the table.

"So, what's this for?" He asked.

"Just a social visit." I took a seat at the opposite end of the table. "Simply curious to see how things were going."

"Same old, really. Rebuilding, politics, other crap." He took a drink. "Getting old, relaxing in retirement."

"Nothing much then." I nodded. "You've been doing well, then?"

"Not my problem anymore." He grunted. "Not having to deal with the political crap is nice enough, I suppose."

I laughed. "Preaching to the choir."

About three hours later, I said goodbye and walked out again, wishing him a nice a day.

He hadn't changed much, he'd just gotten older.

Not much longer after that, I left that universe again. There wasn't much to do, and after I'd talked to everybody I'd wanted to, I'd simply left as suddenly as I'd came.

Which, of course, meant that it was time to check out how things were going in Supreme Commander.

Not... entirely certain if I wanted to use the Asura Commander for that, however. The Omega Commander chassis was fairly different from it, after all, though the colour scheme would denote it as mine. A familiar sight would probably help against misunderstandings.

Then again, I could also go full bore and bring something really impressive.

Hmm.

What to do...

Lost Log 4

I'd ended up going all out. A new Commander Chassis, designed to make full use of all the things I'd picked up since I'd developed the Asura Commander and its Festum Core variant.

Mark Nicht served as the main inspiration for the new Chassis, though by the time I was finished with the design, there wasn't all that much resemblance left.

Much like the Asura Chassis, this one was relatively thin, eschewing thick and heavy armour plates in favour of extreme manoeuvrability and powerful shields. Also like the Asura Chassis, and unlike Mark Nicht, its proportions were closer to humanoid, instead of having extremely long arms like Nicht. This one was a bit taller than the Asura, however, being a solid fifty meters in height.

Mark Nicht's wings, laser canisters, and propulsion system were all present, though modified to fit the aesthetic. The wings were slightly large, including another pair of spikes for a total of five on each side. Another set of joints had been added, allowing the wings to shift and fold, though aside from saving on space, it didn't serve much of a purpose besides looking cool. The canisters the wings attached to were also sleeker, more powerful too.

The legs and arms had a very wide range of motion, naturally, as did the rest of the Chassis.

While the Chassis did have fabricators and weapons built into both arms, I'd equipped it with hands instead of full blown arrays. Mostly, that was because it was unnecessary, as the psychic power that could be channelled through it would allow me to far and away eclipse what I could with those devices.

This Chassis was far more powerful than any of my others, in fact. Reason for that was simple; I'd taken a page out of Walker's and the Tatsumiya Mir's book. Both of them had transformed their cores into water and air, respectively, and hadn't actually lost any of their power in doing so.

I'd done similar, except instead of air and water, I'd shifted the photon-crystal into metal.

The entire Chassis was constructed out of transformed photon-crystal. Everything, from the armour, to the circuits, to the Resource Cores, to the sensors... All of it was transformed photon-crystal.

All that power, hidden in plain sight.

I called it the Denken Chassis. German name because you can't not have a German name when you're talking about Fafners, and the Denken was close enough to count.

Anyway, that was what I was showing up with.

Though I didn't simply show up out of the blue. I gave a slight warning; activating the Warp Chasm and leaving it open for five minutes before sending the Denken through, thus giving them enough time to react to the sudden activity in at least some minor manner.

But the moment those five minutes passed, I walked through.

It was night time on the world that hosted the Coalition Command Center. It was brighter than night would be on Earth, thanks to the twin stars in the system, but not all that much.

It was much colder than before, though. Seemed to be winter on this part of the planet. What else...

A considerable amount of psychic activity, probably from the Aeon Illuminate since the majority of it is happening near that compound. A whole bunch of units nearby, some designs I recognize, some I don't, with aesthetics from all three factions. Most were pointing their weapons at me, but none were firing, so... that was good, I guess.

The three compounds were bigger, more expansive. Small cities rather than compounds, really. The center building was also bigger, having expanded both upwards and outwards. There was still elements of all three factions' aesthetics present, and they were, perhaps, a bit more pronounced now.

Neat.

I paused only a few steps away from the wormhole I'd come through, which faded away as the Warp Chasm disconnected again. I sent a communication request, following the protocols that I'd picked up twenty years ago.

Five seconds later, it was accepted.

A familiar voice came through. "This is Coalition Command, identify yourself."

I smiled. "Well, hello there Ivan."

"Well, well, well. It's been quite some time, Crusader Rhiza." I smiled at the woman.

Aside from slightly more elaborate markings on her face, she hadn't changed. Her hair, lips, and eyes were still bright teal, though her clothing was more complex and bore more marks of station.

"Drich." All business, I see. "This is... unexpected."

I chuckled. "I'm sure. You're here to lead me, then?"

She nodded. "The Princess, Ivan Brackman, and President Hall have gathered."

"Well, we wouldn't want to keep them waiting, then."

"This way." She gestured, turning and beginning to work.

Princess Burke hadn't changed a bit.

Ivan looked a bit older, with more developed and more pronounced cybernetics.

Hall actually looked better. The bags under his eyes had faded significantly, and he didn't seem completely dour anymore.

"You look like you finally had a good night's sleep." I couldn't help but comment.

A miracle happened when the man actually smiled. A small one, sure, but a smile. From William Hall.

"Drich." He greeted. "You haven't changed at all."

"I get that a lot." I nodded. I turned slightly, offering a smile at the Princess. "Elegant as always, Princess."

Her head tipped slightly, and I suddenly wondered what would happen if I were to introduce her to Altea.

The two were surprisingly similar.

"Greetings again, Drich." She offered a slight smile.

I grinned, before turning to Ivan. I made a slight show of looking over him, before speaking. "Doctor Brackman set you up for this, didn't he?"

"My father prefers science to politics." His tone was light. "And Commander Dostya proved very convincing."

I chuckled again. "Well, it's nice you're all doing well, then."

There was a moment of silence, before Ge- President Hall straightened up. "What brought you back?"

"Oh, nothing but curiosity." I waved off his concern, dispelling the serious air that had only just started forming. "I was interested in seeing how things were going with you all." I looked between the three of them. "And to chat, if you have the time."

Lost Log 5

Things were going well for them. Nearly twenty years hadn't been able to get rid of the tension that had come from the Infinite War, but all three had been trying.

And, really, that was enough.

The Order and remaining Seraphim had been hunted down in the first decade. Even still, that shadow hung over the Coalition, and would probably continue to do so for the next few decades. An ACU was a potent thing, after all, more than enough to wage a war, and even if the Coalition had a lot of them, they couldn't be everywhere at once.

Hall was thinking about retiring. He was pretty old, though he could easily live for a few more centuries thanks to the genetic engineering the UEF had done. Only reason he hadn't yet was because he was still putting things back together.

He hadn't liked being put into politics, though he'd dealt with it because the alternative was war and genocide.

Ivan was the voice of the Cybran Nation. He also didn't particularly like politics, but he didn't dislike it, either. His implants made a lot of things easier for him.

The Princess was born and raised with the expectation that she'd have to deal with politicking. She was fine with it. She also had the unwavering loyalty of her subjects, and the powers granted to her by The Way, so... she was fine.

I'd asked where Doctor Brackman was, they told me he was out halfway across the galaxy, doing research on some life-bearing planets.

Five hours later, I arrived at his doorstep. Metaphorically, of course, as he was based inside a ship. It didn't have the facilities to host the Denken inside, but that wasn't all that much of a problem. I'd simply left it floating outside of the ship, making a slow orbit alongside the ship itself.

Dostya was on a nearby moon, setting up the infrastructure required to build and run Quantum Gateways. The ship was more or less on the edge of known space.

Have to say, the good Doctor kept a pretty tricked out science lab. Lots of high tech implements around the place.

I leaned forwards, examining a creature behind a three inch thick sheet of glass. It looked pretty weird, like a furless, six-legged dog, with a serrated tail.

"Why'd you bring this aboard?" I turned around, facing the Doctor's hologram.

Curtesy of being a brain in a jar who interacted with others using holograms, he hadn't changed a bit.

"They possess an interesting neurochemistry, oh yes." He still had that chipper tune, too. "Which I am studying, as it is particularly efficient, in terms of energy usage."

"Taking inspiration from nature?" I asked.

"Oh yes." He nodded. "This could be the tip of the spear for a new avenue of development. Very interesting, oh yes."

"Heh." I smiled. "Well, good luck with that."

Doctor Brackman hadn't been doing much else aside from that. I popped over to the moon to say hi to Dostya, then went back to the Coalition HQ. A couple goodbyes later, I sent the Denken through the Warp Chasm, and then closed it off again.

No reason to stick around for too long, after all.

"Well, that's that." My avatar fell backwards on a lounge. Little1's and Anastasia's materialized shortly, both of them sitting on top of the back. I quirked a smile at them. "So, which one next?"

They looked at each other, debating wordlessly, before coming to an agreement a few moments later. The co-ordinates were inputted, the Teleporter activated, and the Denken flew through not a moment later.

Let's see... Lots of buildings, lots of ships, lots of people, lots of satellites... Lots of weapons being used, too.

Thousands of ships in orbit, the combined fleet fighting desperately against other ships. Lances of light, energy pulses, and bright streaks marred the skies, ships being destroyed left, right, and center. On the ground, warriors, clad in advanced armour, fought desperately against their foe, beams and bolts flying too and fro... It was closer to a war than a battle.

The aesthetic is Forerunner. Not like Forerunner, is. Little bit of mind-reading confirms it, these are Forerunners.

Huh. Halo. Last new place I went to was Mass Effect, and now I'm in Halo. Coincidence?

Who knows.

Whole bunch of psychic activity, but not from the Forerunners. What are they fighting? First scans show that they appear to be organic-

Flood. Of course.

I really should have known, seriously. Forerunners at war? Could only be a few things. Precursors, Humans, and the Flood.

Though, that raised a number of interesting questions. Need to talk to Fusou at some point, because if I was in the Flood-Forerunner War, which happened around a hundred thousand years before the start of the games, and-

Wait, getting sidetracked. Deal with the now, think about that kind of stuff later.

The future split apart.

Worm Spheres of all shapes and sizes sprung into existence throughout orbit, each one appearing in an empty point of space. The shifting blue forms of Festum burst out of them shortly, and those Festum began to move, attacking the infected ships. A tiny piece of photon-crystal appeared in phase space, and began rapidly expanding, out of sight and hidden, for the moment.

That particular plan would take a while to come to fruition. In the meantime...

The Denken vanished, a Worm Sphere consuming it. It appeared again shortly afterwards, under the shields of a Flood infected ship.

It was... ugly. Forerunner construction twisted by the flood, parts of the ship consumed entirely by organic mass, the occasional twisting tendril that connected and ran through the ship. Still, I'd seen uglier from the Beast.

Though the Beast was different to this. This Beast hungered, possessed of such an urge to consume that even the most minor of psychic talent would allow you to feel it. This...

This was closer to the Reapers than it was to the Beast. There was a calm arrogance about it, surety of purpose, a desire to cause suffering...

Of course, unlike either, this one had actual power. Its mind was developed, and even now, I could feel it reaching out, tendrils of the mind twisting towards the Denken.

It made contact, immediately attempting to spill over, reach further-

All that it received was a mental strike, accompanied by a push into its own mind.

It recoiled, surprised, unprepared for the assault. I worked quickly, reaching in pulling out what information I could. I was locked out in a moment, the mind retreating from contact- But I'd still pulled out a tiny fragment of information.

And, really, that was enough.

Lost Log 6

With only the tiniest glimpse into that mind came the immediate and absolute decision that I was going to do to the Flood what I did to the Beast. That mind is a sick, sick thing, and my morals simply won't allow me to let it continue to exist.

The reason why? Simple. And I'll get to that shortly.

That future collapsed. Thousands more timelines sprung up. Then millions. Then billions. I followed them all to their conclusions, gathered the information I would need to actually fulfil my decision.

It came quickly, and with it, the collapse of the possible futures.

Microseconds after arriving in Halo, I got to work. The first few actions resemble those taken in the first possible timeline- Worm Spheres appearing, ejecting a tiny piece of photon-crystal in phase space where it would grow out of sight, moving my Commander...

But the similarities ended there. Though some Worm Spheres appeared in orbit, the majority instead littered the skies around the Forerunner city below. Instead of taking the Denken in space to deal with the infected ships, I took it to the surface, towards the largest concentrations of Flood bio-mass on the planet.

The Flood's arrival had been sudden, and it had crashed directly into the largest city on the planet. Warrior-Servants were fighting valiantly, supported by scores and score of Sentinels, but they were slowly being overwhelmed. The infection was growing by the second, spreading like the plague that it was.

The Denken reappeared on the surface, in the midst of Flood biomass, and acted immediately. The ten spikes on the wings stabbed downwards, glowing bright blue from the energy channelled through them.

"Are you there?"

The spikes tore straight through the biomass. Assimilation crystals began to spread, consuming the infected ground rapidly, and I immediately cut off the psychic connection it had to the mind that controlled it.

That got the mind's attention. I felt it suddenly begin to pay attention to me, beginning to mentally reach out towards me, trying to analyse me, my assimilation crystals, what I was doing to its biomass.

I rebuffed the attempt easily, bringing my own, growing, power to bear. Where it tried to reach out to study, I instead attacked with lances of thought and disgust, sending it reeling away as it realized I was a threat. Flood bioforms all over the city turned around, most abandoning their assaults, though some remained to continue infecting.

I have to thank the Flood for that. It makes my goal a little bit easier.

The assimilation crystal shimmered, becoming photon-crystal. My available power jumped, and then began rapidly growing even further as more and more assimilation crystal appeared and converted into photon-crystal.

I held my hand out. Assimilation crystals spread out, taking the rough shape of a long sword, before shattering to reveal a Luger Lance, also made of transformed photon-crystal.

Now then... Let's see what I else I can do.

I raised the Luger Lance, pointing it towards the sky. It snapped open, bright blue light shining outwards, assimilation crystals covering the handle.

"Come." I put Sui's power to good use, beginning to summon what Flood biomass I hadn't already assimilated. I started with the far away combat forms, the infected Forerunners and Flood Pure Forms, pulling them away from the battles against the Warrior-Servants.

I said I'd get to the reason why I felt I needed to obliterate the Flood, didn't I? Well, here it is.

The Flood forms materialized, and I assimilated them. And, instead of cutting the connection they held to the mind, I instead tapped into it, attacking mentally again.

It recoiled again, writhing in pain, before shoring its defences and pushing against me.

"Outsider." It hissed.

"Parasite." I made no effort to hide my disgust towards it.

"Why do you fight us?"

"Your goals, of course." I pressed a little bit harder, directing a little bit more energy. I was pleased to note that it felt a bit of pain. "The suffering you cause is reason enough."

"Suffering? We provide sweetness." It pushed back harder. I brushed the strikes away.

"You call suffering sweet." The sensation of me shaking my head drifted to it. "But I know what you are, oh Primordial one."

For a brief, brief moment, attack wavered.

And then it pressed ten times harder. The Primordial's full attention was on me.

I blocked it, pressing back just as hard. "And you are an infection." I sent a thought at it, the equivalent of dangling something on strings in front of its eyes.

"The worst kind, in fact." I showed it the sight of a infected Forerunner. A young one, female, so recently infected that she was still mutating. My assimilation crystals were approaching.

"You're not content just to take the body." The sight shifted. "You take the mind, too."

It was disgusting to look at. The girl, screaming, the infection reaching through her very being, taking and taking and taking, stealing memories and causing her to suffer. She was all too aware of it, the Flood made sure of that. She wasn't the only one, either. Every Flood bioform that had come from the Forerunners- from sentient and sapient beings...

All were suffering, aware of their actions, aware of their infection, aware that the things that were once their bodies were being used to infect others.

"Sweetness." The Primordial enthused. "She joins our crypt, feeling- Sweetness. Pure misery. All that is will feel it."

"Naturally," I began, in a faux-chipper and far too cheerful tone. "That must include you."

The assimilation crystals covered her. I let the Primordial see what I was doing, though not how I was doing it.

I reached in, spreading through her and infection like the Flood had spread through her.

And then-

"NO!" The Primordial screeched, black rage coursing through it. I laughed.

I tore the infection apart, freed the girl of the suffering imposed on her. I granted her peace, encapsulated her mind and buried it deep, far, far, far away from the Flood's grasp. In time, she would be restored completely, every damage undone.

But until then, I used her to mock the Primordial. I laughed, long, and loud, and hard.

"Denied!" I giggled, oh so amused. I threw that amusement in the Primordial's face, taunting it. "She will not suffer. When I get to them, none of them will! I will take them all from you!"

And then, I was silent. Amusement dispelled, laughter gone. All that I let it feel was my absolute certainty that I would kill the Flood. I spoke only one more time before I cut the link.

"Gather your fleets. Build your forces. Spread across your worlds. No matter what happens, I will come for you. I will tear you apart, rip you limb from limb, snatch those bodies from your crypt... Make no mistake, Primordial One, when you die, you will be alone in your grave."

Lost Log 7

Step one, complete. It was angry, now. Furious, that I would dare stop the suffering it tried to cause.

That was fine. That was good, even. It was angry, and so, instead of trying to run away or spread, it would try to hunt me down and kill me. If it decided to run, and it could, it would take an annoying long time to hunt it down.

Couldn't go full bore just yet. Can't risk spooking it. Need to provoke the correct actions, encourage it to hold down, build up in a small space, and then...

Well.

I assimilated more, consuming hundreds of flood bioforms every moment. Not all of them had minds I could pull out, as some had been spawned from pre-existing Flood biomass instead of infected Forerunners, but each one was a blow to Primordial nonetheless. One less combat form to fight with, a little bit less biomass from which to spread the infection...

Though, the bioforms alone weren't the only method. The airborne Flood Spores would have to be dealt with before they could spread far enough to become annoying.

Well, I have just the thing for that.

The air around me shuddered. Thick, heavy mist emerged from nowhere, while the skies above twisted, dark clouds beginning to swirl.

Now then...

Let's see, space.

The Festum I had spawned had dodged the Forerunner fleet nimbly, heading straight to the infected Flood fleet. I ignored the fire from the former to the latter, the Forerunners desperately trying to stop the Flood fleets, though not quite succeeding...

Some of the Flood vessels were fighting back, deploying weapons to batter down shields, attacking with surgical precision. Others, those unarmed, or carrying excessive amounts of Flood biomass, were rushing directly at the fleet in an attempt to board and take over them. Yet more fell to the planet below, dispersing spores and flood biomass...

I looked over the ships, searching for an appropriate target... there. That one would do. Small enough, but it was armed with a beam weapon.

I sent a small group of Festum at it, ten Sphinx-Ds and a Diablo-Type.

The Forerunner Fleet wasn't firing upon my Festum, or me, for that matter, so... that was good, I guess. I had no intention to initiate hostilities, and I hoped that the fact that I was leaving the Warrior-servants and civilians alone while my assimilation crystals spread underneath them was enough indication of that.

But anyway, Festum, Flood fleet.

The group approached quickly, crossing the distance to the infected ships in only a few seconds.

The Primordial apparently didn't like that, as some ships fired at me, scything energy beams aimed at my Festum. The beams met shimmering blue planes of energy, and were promptly consumed by them, then fired back at the ships.

Of course, their shields took the returned blasts rather easily. But then, they were Forerunner ships, and the Forerunners didn't fuck around.

The planes vanished. The Festum came closer, and then ran straight into the shields protecting the ship. Thanks to the rather nebulous way they interacted with physics, they didn't splatter all over the shields like anything moving at that speed coming to a sudden stop should have. Lucky me. The Sphinx-Ds formed a rough circle, the Diablo-Type in the center.

A little bit of focus, and a localised Field emerged around my Festum. I disrupted the stability of the shield inside that area, sapping at its strength. I could feel the systems trying to compensate, but it was a wasted effort. A small hole opened in the shield, just big enough for the Diablo-Type to fit though, and I promptly sent it inwards, on a direct course to the ship.

The ships fired again. Another wasted effort, as the shots were blocked, absorbed, and shot back at the offending ships.

The Diablo-Type glowed brightly as it charged. I knew from experience just how tough Forerunner building materials could be, so I didn't hold back.

My Diablo-Type promptly Kool-Aid Man'd straight through the hull.

Not a moment later, assimilation crystals sprouted, beginning to consume the ship. I prioritised the infected areas first, coating the biomass and seizing the minds of the crew that had consumed, before spreading over the rest of the ship. I sent another taunt at the Primordial as I took over the ship, simply because it was funny.

I didn't bother to cover everything. I did spread over some internal systems, however, assimilating with them in preparation to amplify its capabilities as much as I could.

All the knowledge I needed to control the ship -ah, a Harrier-Class Light Warship- was acquired from that very same crew I'd stolen from the Flood, and I promptly sent it spinning to face another ship. I coated the beam weapon in assimilation crystals, fiddled around with its internals a little, and then, a short moment later, fired.

Bright blue light lanced from it, the beam striking and piercing the shields of another infected Harrier vessel, before slamming into the hull. It did not pierce the hull like it did the shields, and instead seemed to build up and flow over it.

The beam cut off. I turned the ship a bit more and fired again.

Assimilation crystals began to sprout over the ship I'd just targeted. The writhing Flood biomass tried to fight back, as did the Primordial, but the effort was wasted, and the ship was shortly consumed and converted for my use. Some of the systems had been damaged from the infection, but I could fix that pretty easily.

Let's see, Flood fleet has a tad over one thousand five hundred vessels... Exponential growth dictates that I'll have control of them in fairly short order.

A ship that I had just targeted promptly and violently exploded, its reactor breaching and vaporizing it before I could seize control of it.

Assuming, of course, that I could actually seize control before the Primordial scuttled them.

I gave a mental sigh.

Annoying, yes. But ultimately, not too big a setback. Honestly, I cared more about the fact that I wouldn't be able to pull the minds out of the ships, though even that wasn't too much of a problem.

The Primordial wouldn't let them die. All that the destruction of the mass accomplished was simply moving where the mind was hosted.

I'd pick them up later.

My ships turned. I fired again.

Lost Log 8

I targeted the biomass first this time, attempting to seize control of it before it could detonate the reactors. It even worked; I stopped it from blowing up the reactor.

Then an uncontrolled slipspace rupture consumed the entire thing, exposing it, unprotected, to the exotic physics of the slipstream, where it very promptly ceased to exist.

The Primordial really doesn't want me to have those ships.

Oh well. I had two already, and I could work with that.

Worm Spheres consumed the ships, and I worked quickly, absorbing them entirely and building large masses of photon-crystal, before dividing them into hundreds of thousands of pieces. The glowing blue 'flesh' of my Festum sprung into being around the newly divided Cores, and, barely a second after the Worm Spheres had appeared, hundreds of thousands of Diablo-Types burst out.

They all went off quickly, hundreds of them for every ship in the Flood fleet. They ducked and danced around the firepower being exchanged, using portals to absorb and redirect whatever they couldn't weave around.

More and more infected ships began ignoring the Forerunner fleet entirely in favour of attempting to shoot them down, using everything from energy weapons to particle cannons, to even opening a few uncontrolled slipspace ruptures. Only the latter met any success in getting rid of my Diablo-Types, but they were far too few to matter.

Well, the situation in orbit was under control. The surface...

Pretty much the same, really. My assimilation crystals had covered every bit of infected ground, as well as every single bioform the Flood had deployed. The clouds and mist had spread through the city, consuming the air-borne Flood Spores before they could go on to be a problem. I would very shortly deplete every last bit of Flood biomass, cleansing the planet.

Back in orbit, my Diablo-Types slammed into the various ships composing the Fleet. I prioritised the transports, the ships carrying excessive amounts of biomass, with shields far too weak to stop all the Festum targeting them. Most detonated violently, either their reactors or slipspace drives rupturing and obliterating the ships before I could get rid of them, occasionally both.

But not all. For a few, just a few, I was able to assimilate the biomatter before it could set off the reactors and slipspace drives. Hundreds were destroyed, vanishing into open rifts or being consumed by bright, burning light, but I still managed to steal a few, recover the crews, then use the ships against the rest of the fleet, even as the Forerunner fleet capitalized on the distraction I created, their weapons slicing apart and sterilizing ships...

"Outsider." The Primordial spoke again as I assimilated another vessel. "Make no mistake, your misery will be legend."

I laughed in its face, even as slipspace portal began to open in front of the remaining Flood vessels.

Trying to retreat... Only delaying the inevitable.

But that was fine by me.

"You speak as if you have the power to enforce your threat, Primordial." I let amusement colour my tone. "But please, do try. If nothing else, you might provide me some entertainment while I grind you into dust."

The remaining ships, merely a third of the infected fleet, retreated into slipspace, the Forerunners still trying destroy them even now.

I tutted. Not even the tiniest bit of Flood biomass remained in the system.

I was done here, then. So much more to do than just this one system...

Worm Spheres consumed everything I created, and just as suddenly as I had appeared, I vanished. Needed to prepare, spread, curb the Flood. I had so little time- but all the same, I couldn't go all out just yet.

The worst was yet to come.

The IsoDidact considered.

A constant stream of data, reports, and compiled readings ran through his mind, his Ancilla automatically collecting and collating the information. Dozens of Warrior-Servants were present, though some of them were only holographic, their own duties preventing them from attending in person.

"Whatever these creatures are," A particularly decorated Warrior-Servant, clad in a thick Combat Skin, spoke carefully. "They have expanded extremely quickly. It has been mere hours since they arrived in the Verdant system, yet we have detected them in thousands of systems, every new group larger than the last. They are appearing in the millions now, Didact."

"They have not yet proven hostile." Another Warrior-Servant, a Promethean, responded. "They have, in all cases, actively avoided harming our forces."

"We should not forget the Parasite's reaction to them." A third interjected. "Wherever they appear, the Flood turn on them. Everything the parasite has that can strike at them is used immediately and totally, to the point that it will often ignore our fleets entirely."

"And yet," A fourth began, her armour tinting black and blue to indicate dark humour. "The Parasite's stolen weapons fail it." She made a slight gestured. Data flowed through the minds of those in the meeting.

Captured recordings showed the creatures appearing, emerging from twisting black and blue spheres that defied examination; the creatures themselves oddly and dangerously beautiful, glowing soft blue, appearing in all manners of size and form, though most common among them was a sleek, and powerful form, one of its arms a long blade. They soared through space with ease, rushing towards infected ships, gracefully avoiding ships and weapons fire.

They watched, again and again and again, as beams of energy, blasts of plasma, and bolts of light were absorbed by shimmering planes of energy, then returned to the ships that fired them. The Flood resorted even to throwing pieces of the ships it had infected at the creatures, which met no more success than anything else had.

The only weapon that seemed even remotely capable of hurting them was use of unrestricted Slipstream ruptures. Twisting black voids ripped open space and time, but even those ruptures caught precious few of the creatures, certainly not enough to thin the horde before it arrived at the infected ships.

They broke through shields with remarkable, terrifying ease, then hit the ships underneath. Crystals immediately began to sprout over them, but most would detonate and self-destruct before it could spread too far. Some, however, would be consumed, turning to fire upon other ships in the fleets.

"The parasite scuttles its own ships in favour of letting these creatures have them." The third commented. "I must ask, is that fear?"

"What manner of being can make even the Parasite feel fear?" The fourth wondered. A chilling thought, to be certain.

He deliberated, thought about actions and consequences. There was a simple fact, and as much he didn't like it, he was forced to consider it. They were already in the midst of a war. They could ill afford to start another.

"We shall not attack them unless they prove hostile first."

History/InfoDump here. Be warned.

Lost Log 9

I suppose that I've been... vague, recently. I'd normally do this when I find out what setting I'm in, but I was a little pre-occupied before.

At the same time however, this was Halo, which is not exactly uncommon or unheard of outside of gaming circles...

Well, regardless, Halo.

Sci-fi game. The story of a generic super soldier fighting generic religious nutjob aliens who want to kill generic military sci-fi Humanity and blah blah blah none of that's important.

Because this isn't that Halo. That Halo will happen in a hundred thousand years, this Halo is the story of generic super-advanced precursor race fighting against generic super-advanced precursor killing super virus.

Confused? Well, I'll start at the beginning.

Like, the very beginning, because that shit is important to the current happenings.

Some really, really, really long time, over ten million years, in fact, a generic super-advanced precursor species went around the universe, creating life. The species was called the Precursors, because they're both really fucking old and quite probably the first living and thinking beings to have existed in this universe.

Anyway, they seeded and created life. Most notable among those species were a pair known as the Forerunners, and Humanity (Of fucking course).

For a while, things were good. Then, ten million years ago, the Precursors decided to pass on an ideal known as Mantle onto Humanity. What happened next depends on who you ask; but the results were the same either way. See, either the Forerunners threw a huge hissy fit, because they were a bunch of entitled little shits who believed they should have held the Mantle, or the Forerunners were set to be wiped out by the Precursors because they were unworthy of the Mantle, and so rebelled.

Whatever the case; the ancient Forerunners geared up and headed off to wipe out the Precursors. This effort somehow succeeded, despite the fact that the Precursors were so powerful that they really should have been able to obliterate the Forerunners with ease. Later on, the Forerunners decided that this was actually a pretty dicky move, resulting in the information being suppressed and eventually lost entirely.

Fast forward... slightly less than ten million years, the Forerunners and Humanity are the two top dogs in the galaxy, though the former is a bigger dog than the latter.

Anyway, Humanity allied with another race called the San'Shyuum, getting some good technology out of the deal. This made them more willing to challenge the Forerunners, though a war didn't break out until much later.

Later on, Humanity, thanks to their constant expansion throughout the galaxy, encountered some Precursor ships that had drifted into the Milky Way, apparently missed by the ancient Forerunners. On board those ships was a dust compound which everybody deemed harmless, so they decided to start having their pets snort it because it had a tendency to promote desirable traits in them.

At some point, they also came across another Precursor artefact, which contained a being known as the Primordial. It was transported to the capital world, because where better to store weird shit than your most important world?

See, this world was super important because it had a lot of Precursor artefacts present, including lots of Precursor megastructures. These artefacts were completely invincible and indestructible, thanks to Precursor super-science.

More on that later. Several centuries after having their pets snort powder, mutations and genetic abnormalities set in. Turns out the presumed-harmless powder was, in fact, Flood powder, and it had been altering the genetic code of those pets over the years, spreading and infecting the species and even their owners and handlers.

A short time later, the Flood popped up and began doing Flood things to the alliance. Because their pets were... pretty much everywhere, the Flood also popped up through Human space, and also on a couple San'Shyuum worlds, though not all since the San'Shyuum weren't as fond of keeping pets as the Humans were.

So, for the next couple decades, the Flood kicked the alliance's teeth in, spreading all the while. Things eventually became so desperate that Humanity decided to start taking over worlds and systems that were already inhabited by other species in an attempt to both contain the Flood and consolidate their power.

Notably, the Humans would cleanse any world of the Flood where they were found. Naturally, this included worlds that already had populations on them. Unfortunately, this included Forerunner worlds.

So, Humanity bombed the crap out of the Flood, killing many and often devastating entire planets. This made the Forerunners really, and understandably, angry.

So, the Forerunners decided to kick the Human's shit in, turning an already desperate situation for the alliance into a practical death sentence, with the Flood on one side and the Forerunners on the other.

The Forerunners themselves were either unaware of the threat the Flood posed, or simply did not care. Either way, Humanity wasn't very forthcoming with information, and the Forerunners had no pity.

As they lost all their new territory to the Forerunners, Humanity got really desperate, and created a plan wherein they would take one third of their remaining population, engineer them with genes meant to destroy the parasite, and then force feed that third of their population to the Flood. They did so, and, against all odds, it seemed to work. The Flood was contained, and it eventually retreated, leaving the alliance to focus on the Forerunners.

Who kicked their shit in. Badly. The alliance had neither the resources, nor the personnel, nor the time to recover enough to fight the Forerunners who were already stronger than the Humans had been at their height.

They lost system after system, and were eventually pushed solely to their capital. Even still, they held out for a little over fifty years, bleeding the Forerunners for every minor victory. At some point, the San'Shyuum government surrendered, and for that, they were stripped of most of their power and then locked in their home system with only a few worlds.

Humanity fought to the bitter end. For that, they were regressed into a primitive state, then dumped on their home planet of Earth, Erde-Tyrene as it is currently known.

The Primordial was also found by the Forerunners during this time. The Didact, the supreme military dude who commanded the Forerunner soldier caste, had a chat with it, and then left it on the capital world for the next nine thousand years.

Unfortunately for everybody, the bad shit didn't stop there. Nine thousand years later, the Flood came back, not having actually been effected by Humanity's supposed 'cure'. The Flood attacked the Forerunners, though the latter managed to hold the former off for nearly three hundred years before shit went down.

Slightly less than fifty years before said shit went down, the Forerunners built the Halo Array, the original version that had twelve rings thirty thousand kilometres wide instead of seven that were ten thousand kilometres.

The assigned an incredibly powerful and advanced AI known as Mendicant Bias to one of these rings, then sent it and the ring to test it in the system that used to be Humanity's capital. It worked, and everything in the system died.

However, the previously thought to be indestructible and invincible Precursor megastructures were also destroyed, because it turns out that the Halo Array has the side effect of counteracting the specific set of super-science those structures needed to continue existing. As a consequence, the Primordial was freed, and subsequently transferred to the ring that Mendicant Bias was on.

All three, the ring, Mendicant Bias, and the Primordial, vanished for the next forty three years. During this time, the Primordial convinced Mendicant Bias that the Forerunners were a bunch of jackasses, and the AI turned on its creators.

Later on, the ring was used to kill the San'Shyuum -they'd launched a rebellion-, which cause the Forerunner government to recall all the rings -turns out the use of Halo for such a purpose was a bad thing and violated Forerunner law pretty thoroughly-, where Mendicant Bias, being the super AI that it was, even by Forerunner standards, took control of the other Halo rings also present in the system, then charged and fired a few before the Forerunners could stop it, thus killing the crews of thousands of ships, every single Forerunner in the capital, and the Forerunner's entire government in one fell swoop.

The Flood subsequently began overrunning Forerunner defences, fucking shit up all across the galaxy.

And that's the abridged version of how and why the galaxy is currently fucked.

And I say currently because it's very much current. This is the time period in which I've arrived, where the Forerunner government collectively kicked the bucket not all that long ago, the Flood were still in the midst of overrunning the Forerunners, and only about ten years before the Forerunners would have activated the Halo Array in canon.

Fun times, no?

Lost Log 10

Ten hours have passed since my arrival. I have thirty two thousand Festum swarms roaming throughout space, each one a minimum of ten million members strong.

Such large numbers are ridiculously overkill, far and away beyond what I could possibly need to purge the Flood, given how frustratingly difficult it was for the Flood to kill them.

At least... for the time being, anyway. In four or so hours, numbers alone will lose all meaning.

There were precious few indications of what was to come, however. The Flood would start employing new abilities shortly, but the jump between those abilities and what would happen in four hours was rather extreme.

Shortly?

No...

That first one had already been realized. The Primordial had progressed further than I had expected.

Still... I had seen it progress quicker than this. My timing was off only by a few minutes. It doesn't matter.

Regardless, the Forerunners will be feeling the effects soon.

Poor bastards.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been, however. I've removed three fourths of the Flood attacking Forerunner space already, and I'd destroy the rest shortly. They'd escape the worst simply because there wasn't enough Flood left to bring about the worst.

Even then, I also already had a solution for what the Flood would do.

I'd just been waiting for a reason to deploy it.

My Festum appeared in new systems in much the same manner as they had in all previous; a sudden explosion of Worm Spheres to hide the fact that they'd transitioned from Hyperspace, followed shortly by a sudden and overwhelming assault on all Flood assets in the system.

Par the course, really.

What wasn't normal, however, was the Forerunner ships and machines fighting against each other.

The battle was as chaotic as it was dangerous, with beams of plasma, bolts of particles, and lasers tracing spider webs throughout space. Weapon-ships were present in the millions, and all of them were dogfighting each other around the other ships of the fleet, making for a chaotic mess not all that dissimilar to a swarming mass of insects.

The fortunate still had shields to protect them from weapons fire. The unfortunate didn't, with some ships bleeding atmosphere into the void, their hulls a mix of shattered, broken plating, and neat, scything cuts, though most fought on regardless. Some ships were simply dead in space, unmoving, their shields deactivated and weapons unpowered.

The cause, of course, was the Flood.

To anything with a modicum of psychic talent, it was easy to sense what the Primordial was doing.

I could see the tendrils of its mind reaching out, towards the helpless, undefended systems of the Forerunners. It targeted Ancilla, the artificial intelligences of the Forerunners, and, using its power, interfaced with their hardware and minds, editing thoughts and introducing self-replicating code directly into their systems, bypassing firewalls and other defensive measures. attempting to infect them and take control of them.

It was succeeding. And each one it took, it used as a conduit to spread the infection, launching attacks across networks. A more mundane, but still no less devastating method, because the Forerunners had not been prepared for it.

I might call it the 'Logic Plague', but this wasn't that. There was no attempt at philosophical corruption here, just mere brute force.

More effective, perhaps. But it came with its own vulnerabilities.

I reached out with my own mind, disrupting the Primordial's psychic activity. I felt the difference immediately, the Primordial fighting back far more effectively than it had before, making do with the minor amount of power it had available to hold my attempts off for the moment.

"Organic beings weren't enough for you, I see. Now you infect their machines, too. Do you think that will save you?" I taunted.

"Is that ignorance or arrogance, Outsider?" It returned.

"Confidence, of course." I pushed harder, forcing the Primordial to stop fucking with the Ancillas. It wouldn't do anything about those who had already been infected, but that was what the other solution was for. "Here, watch."

His arms raised, bringing his rifle to bear. His finger squeezed, sending bolts of light down the corridor, colliding with the shields of other Warrior-Servants.

He did everything he could to stop it. Wasted efforts; his Combat Skin moved without his will, his Ancilla having taken control. It was silent, disconnected from him entirely, so unlike how it had been only minutes ago.

A strange, horrifying feeling. The warning had come too late to matter.

The Parasite could infect even their Ancilla, now.

Red pulse bolts slammed into his shields. His Ancilla didn't take cover, continuing to fire back, heedless of the danger.

His shields failed. The bolts tore straight through his rifle, rendering it into scrap metal. So, his Combat Skin charged forward, manifesting a Hardlight blade to attack with.

He made it only a single step before another few pulses ripped his legs off. The pain was immense, not dulled by his armour-

And it still didn't stop him. His arms dragged him forwards, though slower than before, even as his blood made a trail across the floor.

His fellows were trying to disable him, though it wasn't working. It was a losing battle, even; Ancillas were still being converted and corrupted, Forerunners trapped in their armour, being forced to fight their fellows, while their ships carved bloody paths through each other.

If he still had the capacity to speak, he would have told them to forget about trying to save him. But, he didn't, as everything that might have allowed him to speak had been disabled.

His Combat Skin crawled forward-

And then, very suddenly, stopped. He realized, a short moment later, that it was because of a weight on his back.

He turned his head- and suddenly realized he could turn his head, his Ancilla no longer locking him out.

One of the glowing blue creatures was on top of him. It was an odd form, quadrupedal, lacking a head, its skin constantly shifting and changing slightly, but still possessed of the same odd beauty like the rest of its kind was.

He equally suddenly realized there wasn't any pain. He twisted his head, looking downwards.

Blue crystals were growing from the remains of his legs, heading away from his body. Several more crystals had spread over the parts of his Combat Skin that had taken damage, and even the remains of his rifle.

"Stand up, Promethean." Something whispered into his mind.

A moment later, the crystals shattered, revealing his legs, regenerated, his Combat Skin, repaired, and his rifle, reconstructed.

He stood up, the creature flashing brightly before vanishing, leaving behind only a few strips of crystal attached to the back of his Combat Skin. His Ancilla reconnected with him, and he felt the burning shame and regret it felt.

He wasn't angry with it. Couldn't be angry with it. The fault laid with the Flood, not it.

Besides, they had a task to do.

Lost Log 11

"How easy it is to undo what you've done." I hummed, mock-considering. "Surely, one such as you can do better than this?"

"I wonder how long you will be able to keep that attitude, Outsider." Was all I received in response.

"Oh, I'd wager quite a significant time. We've already proven that you can't stop me, I'm far too numerous for that." I let a bit of arrogance into my voice.

It chuckled, deep and menacing. "You will meet your end soon enough."

"Oh please, what can you possibly do?" Oh, but I knew full well what it could do- but it didn't know that, did it? "Prolong this war? Run like a coward and make me hunt you down? Bleed on me? Actually, that last one might prove annoying, your blood is rather viscous, and it would ruin my coat."

I got another chuckle.

And then the link between us cut as I assimilated the last bit of Flood biomass in the system.

I smiled. Step two, complete.

Managed to salvage eight ships this time. I idly sent the swarm that had been attacking the Flood to join the other half that remained in the system.

I'd gotten most of the infected Ancilla already, removed the Flood taint from them. There were only a few left now, one corrupted Weapon-Ship, and a couple Ancilla puppeting the Combat Skins of some Warrior-Servants.

Speaking of; my swarm dogpiled that Weapon-Ship, partially assimilating with it in order to access its systems. The Ancilla tried to fight back, but failed by virtue of the fact that it had no method of resisting me. Let's see, remove all code injected by the Primordial, locate and obliterate the changes it had made to the mind by comparing it to previous states, restore said previous state, regenerate mental damage... And fixed.

My swarm left it a moment later, leaving behind only a few twisting strips of Photon-Crystal attached to the hull. Much the same happened for the Ancilla who were in control of the Combat Skins, though the type of Festum that did the deed was different, and the work happened to include healing the Forerunners wearing them.

In both cases, the only things left behind after I was done were chunks of photon-crystal attached to the Combat Skins.

The countermeasure.

They had a lot of uses, actually. The main one was stopping the Primordial from altering Ancilla by blocking its power, but further, they'd be able to prevent Flood infection, assimilating Flood biomatter the wearer came into contact with before it could corrupt them. In case of damage, they'd be able to repair armour and regenerate Forerunners, and in the worst case scenario, they would serve as Gordian Crystals, providing a measure of safety for the minds of their wearers and those around them in case of death.

It was... honestly rather wasted. In a few short hours, they'd become irrelevant- but the deployment of them was also for appearances sake. The impression they'd give was favourable to me, both to the Forerunners, and to the Primordial.

The only reason I hadn't deployed them beforehand was simply because I had had no excuse to deploy such things before now. In too many timelines, suddenly deploying them with no reason had caused the Forerunners to misinterpret, and become hostile. In fewer, but still too many, it had given the Primordial a hint that something was up with my knowledge and counters.

From then, it had only been a short time before it arrived to conclusions. Those conclusions might not have been completely accurate, but they were always annoying. I had risked it a number of times in those possible futures. It made things harder too often for me to deploy them early here, where I couldn't just drop the timeline when I made mistakes.

Reality was unforgiving, that way.

Still, I had my excuse now. The Forerunners wouldn't become hostile -not from just this, at least-, and, more importantly, the Primordial would believe that I had no idea what it was doing in the background, far away from my forces, and far away from everything I could see... It would think that I had no idea how advanced it was becoming, and had so settled in for a long, conventional war.

Honestly, I couldn't wait until it was ready. Then, I could stop fucking around.

"What is it, Lifeworker?" He asked, straightening up as the scanning beams finished their work.

"I do not know." Words that few wished to hear when it came to matters such as these. The Lifeworker herself floated around the table, her form smaller than most of her rate, though still slender and graceful. "Even with equipment such as this-" She gestured around the room, pointing to all the sensor arrays that had been hastily gathered. "- it defies examination."

"Is it harmful?" He asked next.

"No." She answered, before she tensed and continued again, her armour darkening. "At least, not as far as we can detect." She turned to face him, concern written both in her countenance and on her face. "But it is alive, Promethean. I know not of its intention."

She sounded so assured when she claimed that it was alive. He accepted it with barely a consideration; who was he to contradict a Lifeworker when they claimed that something lived? To him, it was a strange crystal, yes, but to her, it was obviously much more.

"It healed me." He noted. "And freed my Ancilla of the Parasite's corruption."

She nodded, acknowledging that. "Yes. You and all other Forerunners who had their armour... controlled, by the Flood. But such things alone are no reason to attach itself to yourself and the other Forerunners. Perhaps it is benign, but this is a new behaviour..." A moment later, she shook her head. "I cannot tell you much more, Promethean. I have only observations and guesses, now."

"I was released into your care, Lifeworker." He reminder her. "I will not be drawn away."

"I- yes." She nodded again. "I shall speak."

Lost Log 12

Ten hours, thirty two minutes, eighteen seconds.

I have finally spread far enough to reach something that had been of considerable interest to me. By all appearances, it was a hulk drifting in space- and truth be told, the reality wasn't far from the impression it gave.

A Forerunner ship, but it was an old one, barely functioning, in such a state of disrepair that it was a wonder it remained intact at all. It was drifting towards a world known as Uthera Midgeerrd, itself on the very edge of Forerunner space- and also a world that had been overrun by the Flood quite some time ago.

Why did I care about this ship? Also simple. It held a rather important passenger.

My swarm appeared in the system suddenly, tens of millions materializing inside the atmosphere of that corrupted world. They all immediately began assimilating, the Flood fought back and blah blah blah what's going to happen over there is entirely too predictable.

Onto the more interesting thing; a scant few dozen of my swarms appeared at the ship, drifting around it. I ran a scan over it, absentmindedly disrupting the Primordial as it attempted to spy what I was doing over here.

Four lifeforms, in stasis. There was an Ancilla on board, too, though it was deactivated and unaware. It had been decommissioned, actually, thought whoever was responsible for that hadn't done a good job. The ship was fucked, most of the systems wrecked completely. Even the power conduits were slowly burning out from the energy being passed through them, since they were nothing but backups.

Given a few years, they'd fail entirely, and the four occupants would be released from their stasis bubbles.

I had my Festum close in, and began assimilating with the hulk of the ship. A coating of crystals appeared throughout it quickly, and I started fixing it up, restoring the ship to functional capacity. The Ancilla, I restored from a backup of its personality, bringing it online quickly, though for the moment, I didn't allow it any control of the ship.

As for the stasis bubbles...

A Worm Sphere bloomed, and vanished, leaving behind a four meter high Diablo-Type.

It wandered up to the stasis bubbles, examining the contents.

One female, two males, and the fourth; a Catalog, its chassis heavily damaged. Of the first three, only the female was still wearing her armour. The two males had been stripped of it, but both were Warrior-Servants, and one a Promethean.

They did not need their armour to be dangerous. The female was a Builder, less of a possible threat- though that did not mean she was completely harmless, merely that she hadn't formed herself for war.

But to be honest, only one of them really mattered to me.

And that was the Promethean.

Why? Well, simple.

My Diablo-Type raised its blade.

That Promethean was known as the 'Ur-Didact'.

And then it slashed.

The stasis bubble collapsed with bursts of ultraviolet light, and the scent of ozone. The air around him hissed as the time he hadn't experienced suddenly caught up with him.

He dropped to the floor, gasping, his body trembling, and his eyes unfocused.

I tapped the blade to his chest, sending a burst of rejuvenating energy through him. His muscles, slightly atrophied, healed; his skin losing its pallor; his eyes refocusing.

He blinked as he saw the Diablo-Type, stunned for the barest of moments, before suddenly standing up, scrambling backwards and attempting to examine his surroundings while not taking his eyes off of my Festum.

"Shadow-of-Sundered-Star." I addressed him. The name caused him to freeze, which drew a small amount of amusement from me. "Ur-Didact."

Assimilation crystals suddenly ran along the room, appearing on the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. The Ur-Didact's eyes darted about as he looked at them, and he took a step back when they came close- Unnecessary, however, as the crystals left a circle around where he was standing.

"How strange it is to find one of your standing in such a morbid place as this." The assimilation crystals shattered, fragments launching into the air, where they shattered again, and again, until nothing remained. The floor below hummed with renewed strength, the machinery hidden within now repaired completely.

His feet settled far apart, his hands held out to his sides. The slight tense of his muscles showed that he was ready for sudden combat, should it become necessary.

"And what manner of... being, are you?" He asked, careful.

"Drich." I responded. "I must say, you are quite a long way away from your home, Ur-Didact. You-" The Diablo-Type's head turned slightly, looking at the stasis bubbles of the Forerunners behind him. "- and those three there."

I paused for a moment, giving a considering hum. "Well. I can change that. And you, Ur-Didact, have a task to do, don't you?"

A Worm Sphere consumed the Diablo-Type, taking it away as quickly as it had appeared. But the Worm Sphere didn't vanish there. Instead, it grew rapidly, consuming the entire ship in only a second. I disabled all of its sensors for the moment, and then I punted it through Hyperspace.

In about five seconds, it would arrive in the Forerunner Capital, where the Iso-Didact currently was. The moment it did, its sensors would reactivate, and the Ancilla would regain full control of the ship. The Forerunners would be appropriately cautious, but upon seeing who was inside...

Well. It would be a surprise for most.

More importantly, rescuing the Didact here and now meant that he wouldn't fall into the Primordial's hands, which, in turn, meant he wouldn't become insane from the torment it would put him through, and thus, he could lead the Forerunner military properly instead of drawing away resources and lives for a pointless goal.

It also meant that the Iso-Didact would have his duties effectively halved. Which was important, because in about eleven minutes, I was going to encounter another interesting thing.

And I wanted him to be there when I did.

Lost Log 13

Ten hours, forty three minutes, forty five seconds.

And I encountered the other interesting thing I had spoken about.

My Festum materialized around it suddenly, appearing from Worm Spheres. A single look at it was all anybody needed to identify it.

A ring. A Halo ring, to be exact.

Installation 07, the only remaining Halo of the original twelve rings.

Why did I care about it? Well, aside from the fact that it's a fucking Halo Ring, and thus automatically serious business, it held two occupants that I really wanted to get my hands on.

My Festum got to work quickly, dividing into smaller groups of hundreds of thousands as they went after important parts of the structure. I send them to the ends of each section of the ring, the power relays, generators, control rooms, and every other system of importance. Assimilation crystals shortly spread over those places in short order, and then further as I seized control of more and more of the ring.

There was a considerable amount of Flood biomass present, which I shortly got rid of. Also present, however, was other plant and animal life, which I left alone for the moment. Finally, there were a few sapient beings, who, with the exception of two beings, I left alone.

But those two?

One of my Diablo-Types appeared in the center of the ring, and shortly reshaped itself, assimilation crystals covering it, before spreading and forming a large, wide platform. More matter flashed into existence, and assumed the shape of one of my Envoy-Type Festum, much smaller than it usually was, only eighteen meters in height.

The platform finished growing, and I started adding an atmosphere. A moment after that was finished, I used Sui's power, and promptly summoned the only two things I cared about on this installation.

Both appeared with flashes of light. Both were very different. The first, the smallest, bore a resemblance to a Monitor shell, save for the fact it was two meters across. Its eye was green, and it rotated to face my Envoy-Type after a short moment.

The second was nothing so simple. It was a bit under fifteen meters tall, and eleven meters wide. It had a wide and flat head, rather insectoid in appearance, with a long tail, tipped with a two meter long barb extending from the back of that head. Four arms extended from an over-sized and fat torso, two large upper limbs and two smaller lower limbs, each with hands that had three fingers and a central opposable thumb. Two degenerated legs extend from the bottom of it, with more, smaller legs curled up into itself like a spider. A fine, crystalline powder covered its skin, which fell from its body as it moved. The face bore a resemblance to sea scorpions, with compound eyes, and an insectoid mouth.

The second, of course, was the original body of the Primordial. The first, however, was merely one of two separate housings on the ring, both for the same being; Mendicant Bias.

I did not summon the other. It was incredibly large, a mass of data-crystals and other machinery, the size of a small city. It would have been annoying to host it, simply because of the scale of it.

Unnecessary, too. Remote interaction was what the up-scaled Monitor chassis was for.

"Well then." I ignored Mendicant Bias for the moment, instead making a show out of examining the Primordial. "This was your original form? Inelegant, but perhaps I shouldn't be surprised. It is you, after all."

"Outsider." It clicked, mouth chittering and releasing sounds that were only approximations of the words it wanted to speak. Still, somewhere between it and me, the sounds changed, the way the air vibrated altered so that what was delivered was understandable- if nauseating for most beings. "Strange, you normally destroy my mass wherever you find me."

"I have a plan for this instance of you." I told it, before looking around.

Around us, the Halo appeared to be slowly changing colour, splotches of blue spreading rapidly across its surface. Visible in the sky, but still far away, was a planet, whose surface bore an odd resemblance to the face of a wolf.

"After all, you have been telling quite a few lies, Parasite." I turned my Envoy's head back towards it. "And I do believe that it's time those records were straightened."

"Fascinating." Mendicant Bias spoke, his voice ringing from the Monitor frame. "Teleportation without the Slipstream."

"It used the power of its mind to create a temporary fold in space." The Primordial answered his curiosity. "Zero-dimensional movement."

"Neural physics?" The Ancilla asked next.

"No, though one might liken this and that." There was low clicking noise, before it continued. "It doesn't tap into the universe and alter fundamental physics to do such a thing. It is blunt power alone."

Mendicant Bias hummed. "Thank you."

"Picked up a bauble, have you?" I turned towards it. "And turned it against its makers, I see."

"I-"

"Do not speak, bauble. I am not interested in whatever words you may have. You are but a puppet, dangling on that one's strings." I looked back at the Primordial.

Around us, the last areas of Installation 07 were assimilated. The ring is coated in a shimmering blue, only a few areas of it left alone. That was enough for me.

I seized control of its defensive measures, and then activated one. Quite suddenly, most of the Installation froze in time, caught in stasis. It would not last long, but it would last long enough.

In stasis, energy it would have absorbed was instead reflected. To those who had the sensors to observe it, they would see a suspicious scattering of heat and energy.

The Forerunners had such sensors. The activation of such systems would draw their attention in very short order. They would come soon, because a few would recognize the method through which the energy scattered. The Didact, both of them, would quickly realise the situation.

I wasn't trying to be subtle, here.


	2. Lost Logs 14-23

Lost Log 14

Eleven minutes, twelve seconds.

That's how long it took for a Forerunner fleet to arrive. Fairly fast, honestly, given the current state of the galaxy.

Thousands of Slipspace portals appeared, most of them a respectable distance away from the Halo. Ships began emerging from them shortly, as many as five or six from a single portal. All three of us turned to look at the portals, simply for a lack of anything better to do.

The Iso-Didact's ship is in the center of the formation, protected by the many ships of the fleet. The formation itself is rather loose, spread wide, but the positioning is efficient when it comes to unleashing the firepower of the fleet on any prospective targets.

A moment after the arrival of the fleet, I feel the combined shock and surprise of its personnel, and I couldn't help but feel some amusement at that.

No surprise, though. The assimilation crystals covering the Halo were inspiring enough, but I'd added something to it only a few minutes ago.

Winding coils of Festum flesh wrapped around the ring, forming a circular double helix. Waves of light crawled across them, pulsating fractal patterns coming into existence for a scant few moments before fading. Neither had any particular meaning, they were there because they looked pretty.

I waited thirty seconds, before turning my Envoy-Type's head directly towards the Iso-Didact's ship. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

Four streams of light appeared from the platform, one for each of us, and the fourth, empty, though its intended occupant would come down soon enough.

Ten more seconds. Then-

A golden flash of light as the Iso-Didact translocated onto the platform.

"And the guest arrives." The Primordial seemed apathetic. To his left, Mendicant Bias suddenly seemed apoplectic. It turned to me after examining him for a moment. "Was this the one you were waiting for? A soul in a body not its own?"

"Primordial." The Iso-Didact said the word like it was poison. Then, his head turned, and he beheld Mendicant Bias. "Mendicant Bias." And, finally, he turned to me. The word was careful, the Iso-Didact not knowing what to make of me, but it came nonetheless. "Drich."

The Primordial chittered. "Drich? Is that your name, or is that what you are?"

"Both." I spoke. "Though that matters little."

There was an odd, hissing sound, from it. "I suppose. None shall remember you after I am done."

"Oh? I didn't know Precursor memory also suffered from age. Well, there is no shame in being of such poor make, but if I must remind you; it is not I who will be forgotten."

It shook, slightly. Fine dust fell from it in waves. It hit the platform, and promptly vanished, assimilated.

"But enough of these games. We have until your death to insult each other. This one-" My head turned to the Iso-Didact. "- has far less time."

Confusion was such a fascinating expression on a Forerunner's face.

"Iso-Didact." I addressed him. "Your species appears to be under a delusion. Many, in fact, and most of them perpetuated by this one here." I turned back to the Primordial. "But we lack the time to go through them all. So I will instead simply start with the most important."

"Bold words." The Primordial noted. "And what deception would this be?"

"Immunity." I answered. "And the Flood."

"Immunity?" The Iso-Didact questioned, expression furrowing. "What immu-" Realization danced across his face. His armour darkened, slightly.

"Ah, yes." The Primordial shook again. "The thought that there are things we cannot infect. An amusing one, to be certain."

"It only took three hundred years before they were enlightened." Such a vicious tone, Mendicant Bias. "My master claims the Forerunners are cunning, but in a display like this, it is hard to see."

"Can the Flood choose not to infect?" The Iso-Didact asked. It wasn't really a question.

"There is judgement, and timing." The Primordial seemed to delight in telling him that. "And certainly, no immunity."

"Then why? Why allow this cruelty? Are you the font of all misery?" His voice was subdued, but still dangerous.

"Misery is sweetness." The Primordial stated. "We absorb, and bring unity. In the end, naught but quiet and wisdom."

For a few moments, there was silence. "You told me before that you were the last Precursor." He glared at the Primordial. "How? Your body is nothing more than a number of other victims melted together- A Gravemind. Were the Precursors all Graveminds?"

"No." I answered before it could. "That which you see before you is the remains of several Precursors, formed into a single being."

The Primordial nodded, after a moment. "Many of those who created you were hunted. Many, extinguished. A few fled beyond your reach."

"And those that did-" I spoke softly, slowly. "- became you."

"We are the last Precursor." It said. And then, with an oddly eager air about it, it continued. "All twelve."

"And thus, another secret is revealed." I noted. "Do you see, Iso-Didact? The most effective way to hide the truth is tell only parts of it."

Another shake from the Primordial. Another hiss.

"Time draws short, Iso-Didact." I stated a moment. "One more question."

He considered it for a few seconds. The Primordial was remarkably cooperative.

Finally, he made his decision. "How can you control any of this?"

"We are the Flood." It said.

"They are synonymous." I continued. "This body in front of you; make no mistake, it is just another puppet, much like all Flood bioforms."

"My minds, my souls. These are free, not confined to my flesh."

I held my hand up. Slowly, assimilation crystals appeared, spreading upwards from the Primordial's hands and legs.

"How we pity you, so limited in your existence." Was all it said, before the crystals covered it completely.

I glanced at Mendicant's Monitor shell. It very promptly collapsed, suddenly void of power.

"Iso-Didact." I turned towards him. "There are events soon to follow, the likes of which you will not believe. Be prepared."

My swarm vanished. The assimilation crystals shattered. The winding coils surrounding the Halo disintegrated into nothing but dust, and then nothing at all.

In another reality entirely, I burst into laughter.

Hot damn, doing the mysterious alien act is fun.

Lost Log 15

Thirteen hours, fifty four minutes, eight seconds.

There is no longer any Flood bioforms in Forerunner space. There hasn't been for an hour, actually. Outside of it, sure, but none are currently inside of it.

My swarms were even now spreading outwards, into the Flood space outside the Forerunner's own borders.

Nothing but appearances, at this point, really.

The next stage in the war was already coming. The next stage, and the final one.

I could feel it.

One of my swarms materialized in a Flood-controlled system. By all appearances, it seemed like nothing special; a planet consumed and covered by the Flood, a few hundred ships, not all of them Forerunner, hanging in orbit...

And yet...

There was a palpable feeling of oppression throughout the system. Light seemed harsh, piercing, cutting. Stray particles bounced off of my Festum with what looked to be far more force than they should have possessed. It is almost harder to move, as if space itself wished to impede me. Subtle things that were nevertheless noticed because they were different, all giving me the single impression that I am not welcome here.

The more obvious thing was the Primordial.

Its mind, its power, stretches across the system, in a way that isn't just it reaching out from its flesh. It is infecting far more than just organic beings and mechanical minds, now.

"Your appetite is voracious." I couldn't help but say to it. "You spread your infection so eagerly, corrupting even the very fabric of reality. Is this your neural physics, then? Combining thought and mind with matter and energy, space and time?"

"A blunt manner of describing it." There is no air to carry the sound. My swarms, all of them, are out in deep space. Space itself distorts, temporary particles coming into existence for that sole purpose, then vanishing the moment their task is complete.

It's as much a show of power as it is a method to communicate with me.

"Superb." I give the compliment freely. And I meant it, too, because it's impressive; a capability that beggars belief. "But it will not save you."

Here it comes. Step three. Hook.

"Arrogant to the end." The Primordial projected a feeling of mirth. "There was a time when we were called gods."

"I've met beings who have been called gods, before." The Masari. But the Masari and the Primordial existed on entirely different scales.

"Have you?" There was an honest curiosity about it. "Well then. If even this is so unimpressive to you, then perhaps I shall take one step further."

Line..

"Are you holding back even now?" I asked, a little bit of levity in my tone. "A truly foolish decision. But still, it will make it easier for me to wipe you out, so, please continue. Make it a little easier for us both, actually."

It laughed. Actually laughed.

Sinker. Step three, complete.

"I will grant you the honour of watching this apotheosis." It said.

And then, it let me see.

Across the galaxy, the Flood. So much Flood. While I had been wiping it from system after system after system, it had been spreading eagerly through territory that it already controlled. Entire planets had been subsumed, their ecosystems converted into Flood biomatter, followed shortly after by whatever useful matter it could get its hands on, until it reached the next stage of Flood development.

A singular bioform that spanned an entire planet. An ocean of flesh and mind and bone. Such a thing possessed enormous amounts of processing power, a match for even a Metarch-class Ancilla.

A Key Mind.

The Primordial had created them in the tens of thousands. It had spent the last fourteen hours building up to this, converting every world it held, every world it could get its hands on in such a short amount of time...

It was enough processing power and mass that it could finally start utilizing the greatest power of the Precursors; neural physics. At first, it had only tapped into the pre-existing architecture that had been created millions of years ago, and then used that architecture to spread its infection into the fabric of reality, but now...

Now, the Primordial showed me the so called 'next step'. Across Flood controlled space, reality shivered as the Primordial worked; normal matter rearranged into Flood biomass. Entire celestial bodies were altered, barren planets and moons becoming Flood planets and moons. The available processing power jumped again and again, more worlds being converted at a faster and faster pace.

It continued, increasing exponentially- until, very suddenly, it stopped.

The Primordial had reached critical mass.

Then...

The Primordial showed me its work, but really, it wasn't that necessary. I could sense it myself.

New neural physics architecture sprang into existence, and then spread rapidly. The network was heavy, dense, building upon and integrating with the previous network. More and more of local reality was seized, taken control of by the Primordial- until even that stopped.

Finally, there came one last stage. The Primordial showed it eagerly enough.

Its mind spread into the architecture it had created. It was a vast, vast thing- and now, it could store the entirety of itself in those metaphysical constructions.

"Transsentience." The Primordial stated.

And then it dragged the minds of every being it had consumed with it, bringing them away from the Flood flesh, and hiding it with the newly created architecture.

"Do you think you can take these back, now?" It was downright gleeful.

"Well... That was the idea, yes." I snapped my fingers.

In an instant, two creations of mine that I had prepared a few hours ago appeared, transitioning from phase space. Both were massive, though one was far larger than the other.

Both were shells, one mechanical, the other crystal. The mechanical one was the single largest object I had ever created- so large, in fact, that it enclosed the entire galaxy.

An internal diameter of two hundred thousand light years was enough to neatly enclose even the distant ring of stars surrounding the galaxy. The shell itself is multiple astronomical units thick, containing the stupidly large amount of gravitational manipulators required to make this thing not collapse into a black hole, an equally ridiculous amount of energy generators, and then enough defensive measures to ensure that nothing was going to be blasting a hole through a part of it.

But the most important aspect of it were the countless modified phase pulse generators equally spaced throughout, on top, and inside the shell.

And when I say phase pulse generators, I mean the ones used on the Halo Array. You know, the things that allowed those rings to kill everything in twenty five thousand lightyears.

Why did I need such a thing? Well, first off, insurance. If I couldn't win, I was going to nuke the galaxy, because that was better than letting the Primordial do its thing.

But the real reason was containment.

Across the shell, those generators activated, drawing upon truly vast amounts of energy. Here's where the 'modified' comes in; instead of firing and realising their deadly payload as a single burst, it was instead released as a constant field, extending about a thousand light years in every direction. From all of them.

The result?

The galaxy was completely cut off from everywhere else. I'd enforced a two thousand light year wide shell in which any neural physics would be utterly destroyed.

Containment. The Primordial would not be getting out. It could not escape through neural physics-based FTL, and trying to travel through Slipspace would be a death sentence to anything that wasn't a machine. Even then, if I didn't want it to leave, it wasn't going to. That shell was fully capable of obliterating any would-be escapees.

It probably would have been easier if I had used countless ships, instead of a single, supremely large shell. But hey, this just wouldn't be Halo if there wasn't gratuitous megastructures.

Also, Fusou can brag about her dyson shells all she wants. I win this one.

The second shell was much smaller, only about thirty thousand light years across, though it too was multiple astronomical units thick. It appeared around Flood space, serving as the first layer of containment for the plague. With this, I would have enough power to challenge the Primordial directly.

Which I immediately did. I attacked it from all sides, striking at its mind with all the power this smaller shell could bring to bear.

"Primordial~" I downright purred. Oh, now it was realizing what had happened, now it was suddenly aware of just how badly it had been played... "You dun fucked up now."

The first blow is simple, straightforward, and direct. It's blunt, but it's powerful, and in essence, a sledgehammer.

I batter the Primordial's mind with reckless abandon. It blocks, and then shortly redirects it entirely, shifting the mental strike into the physical world.

The raw power scatters entire solar systems, blowing them away like dust in the wind. Stars, planets, moons, asteroids; all are reduced to little more than relativistic clouds of dust.

It's not much other than a love tap, honestly. Nonetheless, it establishes the kind of stakes we're playing on here.

The next attacks are nothing as simple as pure, blunt force.

The Primordial acts quickly, utilizing the new web of neural architecture to try and warp physics. It's attempting to make the local reality inhospitable to my continued existence. To an extent, it works; the tens of thousands of swarms I had roaming around in its space very promptly vanish, no longer compatible with the twisted physics.

The shell, however, does not. The counter is three-fold; a quantum field in order to stabilize reality and enforce normal physics, a mental strike on the Primordial, and interacting directly with the neural web in order to halt those changes.

It took the better part of three hundred and ninety timelines to work out how to do that. Until I did, I had had no other option than to either use the Halo array to kill it, or take it before it could build up entirely. I had succeeded far less than I had wanted to in the latter.

I pour power through the architecture, attempting assimilation. The Primordial, of course, fights back, but it's only when it stops trying to warp physics against me that it succeeds in getting me out of its web.

"You weren't the only one who was holding back, Primordial." I said.

It tries a different approach. Throughout its sphere of influence, all Flood bioforms, the Key Minds, begin to grow. Many of them are already the size of planets and moons, but the Primordial doesn't care. It edits reality and adds new matter to them all the same, suspending the worse effects of gravity on them in the process. It is building its mass, and thus, its power and processing abilities.

So I do the same. The smaller shell grows larger, expanding both inwards and outwards. The Primordial tries to counter the inward growth, but it is only partially successful, doing little but slowing me down.

Worse yet for it, even slowed down, the rate of growth is still larger than its own. A few minutes, and I'd be able to start overwhelming the Primordial regardless of whatever tricks it attempted to pull...

"How does it feel to have been tricked, oh ancient one?" I asked. "To have been outwitted and outmanoeuvred so easily?"

I caught a sudden flash of anger from it. I chuckled. "Well, don't feel too bad. I had this all planned out since the start."

The conclusion was more or less foregone by this point. Still, I continued striking, needling at it.

"The first meeting, of course, where I inspired anger in you. An attempt at provoking you to build up and fight me, instead of being cautious and skittish." I hummed. "And I must say, it worked beautifully. You responded as I intended, going to build up your forces instead running and scattering. For that, I didn't have to hunt you down..."

Another burst of anger. It was becoming increasingly desperate, looking for a method of escape. There wasn't any.

"Taking the minds out of your grasp." I continued. "A show of power, and my desires. Our existences are antithetical, neither of us would allow the other to continue living. You would see that I was alleviating suffering, and your decision would be influenced into choosing to fight me. Another success."

Still looking. But it was slowly losing its ability to impede my progress, and soon enough, it wouldn't have enough power to stop me from accessing its neural architecture. At that point...

"My swarms... As you've no doubt deduced already, I didn't use anything near the amount of I could. An illusion, of course. I wanted to give the impression that I was a powerful foe, but not one completely undefeatable. I wanted you to believe that it would take nothing less than neural physics to defeat me."

About two minutes left. And a mote of confusion from the Primordial.

"Oh yes, I was quite aware of your capabilities before all of this. Another illusion. Displaying knowledge of it would have been detrimental to what I wished you to do." I answered the unspoken question. "Which was, of course, to deploy neural physics."

More confusion.

"The third step, getting you to host your mind, and the minds of everybody you infected, in your neural architecture. Simple enough. Display some irreverence at your capabilities, inspire you to take that step." I clicked my tongue. "The reason for that, of course, being that it would thus put all those minds, and you, into a single place. All, unknown to you, not as invulnerable as you would think."

One minute left.

"And from there, I sprung the trap. Two shells, one to assault you, and the other to keep you contained should you, somehow, win against it. No doubt, you can sense the outer shell, can't you? The energies it is employing... No possibility to escape, because you would be killed just going near it. Should you have won, I was prepared to evacuate as much as I can, and then unleash those energies freely."

I chuckled.

"I could probably wipe out a couple hundred million light years with the number of phase pulse generators I've equipped that thing with. Genocide on a scale that this universe has never seen before, and probably would never have seen again. But, I'm not a monster. And it proved unnecessary, anyway."

Ten seconds.

"What do you think of it all?" I asked.

Silence.

Five seconds.

Two.

"Brilliance." It compliments.

Endgame.

My available energy is now sufficient to overwhelm its defences. I pour pure mental power against it. It still tries to defend itself, still tries to keep me out of its architecture-

But this time, it fails on both counts. I seize more and more of the architecture, my available power still growing. With every bit I seize, I undo what it has done to reality, and push further inwards.

It doesn't give up, and it never will. Pointless struggle, but I could respect it nonetheless.

Eventually, I control the majority. I use that majority, coupled with quantum fields, to stabilize reality.

The moment I can send in units, I do so. Planet-sized chunks of photon-crystal appear around star-sized chunks of Flood biomass, and the Primordial very shortly enjoys having its physical mass assimilated.

And now, it was trapped within the architecture it had created. No Flood biomass to escape into, possessing precious little processing power...

"You're probably the most dangerous opponent I've ever fought." I acknowledged. "How things might have gone different if you had actually known what you were up against."

I reached out, beginning to assimilate it. It fought back, kicking and screaming more or less, but, ultimately...

Wasted efforts.

"Give me your life, Primordial."

Lost Log 17

Incredible. You maintain cohesion even when I've assimilated you.

It flung its mind around, trying, in vain, to hurt me. It couldn't, because now, I had assimilated it. This was my mind. I offered it no power, and it had so very little it could bring to bear on its own. Little by my standards, at least.

Do you really want to know how I beat you? Fine, here. Look. It's not like you can do anything at this juncture.

Yes, precognition. No, your loss isn't a surprise now, is it?

No, I don't play fair. I never play fair. Certainly, you never did, either.

Just stop already, would you? It's over.

Then, finally, it was quiet.

Merciful quiet.

Let's see... All the other minds it had taken. I sorted them, then started repairing them. Give it... oh, not that long, and they'll be restored.

But the Primordial itself...

It was old. So old- at least, the Precursors who had become it were old. Strictly speaking, the entity that was the Primordial only came into existence around ten million years ago.

But the rest of the Precursors? Much older.

Tech? Lots of stuff. Lots of things I couldn't do beforehand... Eh. Didn't really care about it too much. I'll look over it later, if something ever comes up. The biggest prize was neural physics, which...

Eh. Yay, I'm even more overpowered than before. Good for me. I'll get to that later.

Memories? Many. So many. The memories of every being that had been infected by the Flood, and the twelve Precursors who had become the Primordial... Not going to take long to look through them all, what with those massive shells to serve as processors, but even without them...

Speaking of.

The larger shell promptly took a short jaunt into oblivion, unprotected by quantum fields. Didn't need that, any more.

As for the smaller... I'll leave it there for the moment. I do have to repair basically... that entire area of the galaxy. The Primordial and I had not been gentle to it.

What else... Knowledge? Well, I suppose that it falls under 'tech', but still, the Primordial had a lot of it. Neat.

Surprisingly unenthused about this.

Ah well.

Fuck it, what else? Nothing I needed from the Primordial, nothing I needed from those minds...

Ah.

Pay attention, Primordial. This is the only thing I will give you.

A single Worm Sphere burst into existence, fading away a short moment later to reveal a small Diablo-Type.

Around it, the Forerunner fleet reacted instantly, coming to combat readiness- but otherwise not doing anything. Didn't really care about them. The only ship the fleet that was of any importance to me was the flagship, the Mantle's Approach, which, incidentally, also happened to contain the only two Forerunners I cared about at the moment.

"Didacts, I would speak with you." Both were present in the same ship. How nice of them to make this easy for me.

A short few seconds later, the shields around the Mantle's Approach flickered off. My Diablo vanished in a flash of light, before reappearing with another, though in a much smaller size of only three meters.

The two Didacts, of course, were present. Off to the side, however, was another Forerunner, who I actually recognized; the Librarian.

My Diablo-Type's head turned to her. I idly noted the sudden tightening of muscles on both Didacts. "Librarian. Your presence was not anticipated, but it is fortuitous."

The colour of her armour shifted slightly, indicating a degree of confusion.

My head turned back to the Didacts. The Iso-Didact stood at the left, while the Ur-Didact stood on the right. Both looked exactly the same, save for their armour; the Ur-Didact had less of his body covered.

I decided to open with the biggest bomb first. "The Flood is dead."

And there was the shock I was looking for. Another interesting expression on a Forerunner's face. How amusing.

"Dead?" The Librarian asked.

"Vanquished. Ended. Removed. Defeated." I turned to her. "Never to return. Thoroughly, irreversibly, dead." And then, back to the Didacts. "For the moment, this is irrelevant."

"Irrelevant-" Both of them said as one, their tones heated.

"Yes." I cut them off. "There is history that needs to be revealed. History that you-" I turned to the Librarian again. "- are aware of."

More confusion. More of that delightfully amusing expression. Then, sudden and stark realisation. Her head fell, and she took a fortifying breath. "Path Kethona?"

Oh, how the Primordial delighted in that. Now, it was realizing what I was doing, and despite itself, I felt a bit of gratitude come from it.

"You learned it there, yes." I nodded.

"Wife?" The Ur-Didact asked her.

She shuddered, before straightening. "Nine hundred and forty years ago, shortly after your exile my love, I proposed an expedition to Path Kethona. We were to investigate, and search for the origin of the Flood. We did not locate it, but we did find something else."

"An ancient colony of Forerunners." I supplied. "Descendants of Forerunners who travelled there ten million years ago."

"Quite the surprise..." The Librarian murmured. "We -my crew and I- discovered the planet. We found that the entirety of the planet's biota was based on Forerunner genetics, though there were no advanced technologies evident... Well, that matters little. What is relevant here, I believe, is what I learned there. The Forerunners of that world had stored their history, dating back ten million years. I learned that history. I found the reason why our ancestors had travelled so far."

"War."

"Extinction." The Librarian stated. "The Precursors, in ages past, decided to entrust the Mantle to another. This species was Humanity. Our ancestors... did not accept this."

The Didacts were smart. They were quick to figure out what the Librarian was saying.

"And so, they chose to wipe out the Precursors. Extinction." The Librarian finished.

"The greatest crime of the Forerunners." I noted. "Such jealous children your ancestors were. They did not get what they wanted, so they lashed out, and in doing so, almost completely wiped out the Precursors."

Oh, such grief. Such shame. It didn't matter that they hadn't done it; it had been their species, and the crime had been incredibly great.

The Primordial drank it gladly, laughing at them, though they could not hear it.

"Revenge." The Iso-Didact's head fell. "That is the origin of the Flood."

I nodded.

Lost Log 18

"Twelve Precursors survived, as you know." I continued after a moment. "They decided upon revenge. They combined themselves, and the entity you know as the Primordial was born from that. Six formed its original body. The rest became dust. And, ten million years of drifting later, it was found by Humanity."

I paused for a moment. "The Primordial's grievance was legitimate. Its actions were not. Humanity, and the countless other species in the galaxy that it had absorbed and infected, had done it no wrong. The suffering it brought about was therefore unacceptable. I chose to intervene, but make no mistake; I did not do this because I care about your species. The crimes of your ancestors have long since passed, but your current generation still has sins of its own."

The Librarian's armour blackened. The armour of both Didacts did much the same.

"Such as the multiple times your species intervened with others so that they would not grow to challenge your dominance." I dug the knife in a little. "As well as the times when you moved entire species from their homeworlds because it was convenient to you." I dug the knife in a lot. "And also the times you would reduce entire species to small populations, tightly controlled so that they might never rise again to threaten your dominance..." And twisted it, too.

The Primordial roared with laughter and pleasure. Utterly ecstatic.

I let the silence hang in the air, accusing and dangerous. "Who knows... if it wasn't for the fact that the vast majority of your civilization held no part in those crimes, then I might be conducting this conversation with the tip of my blade at your throats." I raised my Diablo-Type's blade, examining it.

But then, I let it drop. The dangerous atmosphere vanished, replaced with a cold chill.

"I do not know and do not care what becomes of you after this. But, maybe, just maybe, you might find some form of atonement." My head tilted to the side. "But then, you might not, too. What will happen then... Oh well. It matters not at the moment. It is unlikely we will meet again. Goodbye."

And with that, a Worm Sphere consumed my Diablo-Type.

Are you happy, Primordial?

It was. Oh, it was still displeased with its current situation, but that act... It had mollified it. Just a bit.

A little bit of kindness, perhaps misplaced. Oh well.

This would be so much easier if I could just hate you, you know?

No, I don't hate you. Certainly, your actions infuriate me beyond words, but...

I know you all too well, Primordial. Your memories are mine. Your thoughts, mine, your personality, mine.

Your history. Yes, that too, is mine.

You know why now, don't you?

Of course you do. You're smart.

Sleep, Primordial. This is the last mercy I will extend to you.

Hmm?

Yes, I'm quite aware that you would never have extended any such mercies to me if you had won.

Foolish? Perhaps. Still, I like to think I'm a good person.

Now sleep, would you? Sleep deeply, and dream of better times.

... Be happy.

Silence.

Just a few things left to do...

I still had the lesser shell, and through that, enough power to employ neural physics, both to create new architecture, and tap into what already existed.

Which was what I did. After all, that architecture housed something else of interest.

A repository of information. The repository of information.

The Domain.

It had been created by the Precursors over five hundred million years ago, but the knowledge it contained was far older than that. Its purpose was to serve as an eternal library of experience, and so far, it had done its job just fine.

Perhaps one of its more interesting aspects was that it was self-aware, possessing a will of its own.

I did the metaphysical equivalent of poking its shoulder. It reacted to me with interest, prodding back a moment later. Curiously child-like, but this was certainly no child.

"If you would be so kind, there is knowledge I wish to access."

I sensed a bit of eagerness as it opened its records to my perusal. The Domain was, of course, eternally yearning to spread knowledge.

I reached into it, towards the deepest, and the oldest, bits of knowledge that it contained.

How old?

One hundred billion years.

Yes. One. Hundred. Billion.

The significance of such an age was readily apparent. After all, this universe was only thirteen point seven billion years old. It seem an impossible number, but...

Well, it was the Precursors.

It wasn't for no reason that the Forerunners had labelled them as 'Transsentient'.

But, the Forerunners had no goddamned idea. The Primordial had not been joking when it had said that its minds and souls were free.

Perhaps... I should elaborate.

The story of the Precursors begins in a cold, and very nearly dead universe. When all but a select few stars had faded, when entropy was nearing the maximum, they had arose on a world surrounded by darkness. There, they did as many species would; grew, advanced, learned. They were hamstrung by the advanced age of their universe and all the effects thereof, but they were a bunch of clever bastards, and they didn't let it stop them.

In the dark, they advanced, built up. They travelled outwards, braving the dark, so rarely encountering even so much as an interstellar cloud of dust... A lonely existence, to be certain.

Then, four billion years later, they made the first steps into developing what would eventually come to be known as neural physics.

And not long after, they recreated themselves entirely. They abandoned purely physical, limited forms, and became something more; metaphysical, transsentient, unbound by the limits of conventional biology.

Free minds and souls, existing on a level beyond the material... Though they still wore physical bodies, those bodies were little more than puppets, something that housed the Precursors, but not the Precursors themselves... An incredible power.

But even with their newfound power, there was so very little in the universe to see. They exhausted everything of interest quickly, and from there...

They grew bored. They began creating as a way to relieve that boredom, began expanding the architecture throughout the universe, started playing with physics like a child might play with toys. Tens of billions of years passed in this manner; all the while, the universe continued to grow older, aging and expanding as it always had.

Then, even the oldest stars wore out. All was cold and dark, and so dreadfully dull.

The Precursors came up with an idea.

Why not restart?

Thirty millennia of constant, unending labour later, they were ready to implement their plan. Neural architecture had been spread throughout the entirety of their universe, a truly vast construction on a scale that was barely comprehendible.

The first step was reducing entropy. The second was increasing gravity. The third was reversing the progress the universe had made.

Where the universe wished to expand, the Precursors instead coaxed it to contract. Matter and energy, space and time, all came together instead of rushing apart.

It ended with a crunch.

And began again with a bang.

Lost Log 19

The Precursors induced an artificial Big Crunch, and then, a Big Bang.

Restart indeed. The Precursors survived, of course, safe from even those cosmic energies thanks to their nature. Those who had eventually become the Primordial had been there, watching that magnificent sight...

It is, without a doubt, the most awe-inspiring thing I have seen. The rebirth of a universe... They're not my memories, but I'll be cherishing them regardless.

And thanks to the Domain, I'm now seeing it through the eyes of every Precursor who had ever deposited their memories into it, which is to say; all of them. Combined experience, combined knowledge...

Honestly, the vast majority of it is simply another viewpoint, another set of thoughts, on situations and experiences that I already know. The Precursors were rarely out of contact with each other, and those who had become the Primordial were certainly no exception.

The Precursors had watched the redevelopment of the universe with interest. Their own had been old, too old for them to have learned much about the earliest stages of existence. From the single moment where the universe was incredibly, inconceivably hot and dense; to the formation of photons; to the formation of matter; and, ultimately, the formation of planets, stars, and galaxies, the Precursors watched it all.

When the universe had cooled enough to support life, the Precursors incarnated themselves, becoming physical and biological once more. They lived, died, and then lived again. They wore forms that ranged from simple bacteria, to more complex multi-cellular life, and then macro-scale biological organisms. They'd die, then take a new form only to repeat the process.

This, they felt, enriched the universe itself. It was a simple fact of their knowledge; the universe lived, though not as they did, and the experience of life enriched it.

It did not take very long for them to start seeding other forms of life throughout the universe. They travelled from galaxy to galaxy, left bacteria and potential in their wake. Eventually, they would come to the Milky Way, and seed life there, too.

All of it was done in the name of experience and enrichment. To store such experiences and knowledge, they created the Domain, building a transcendent archive into the neural architecture of the Milky Way. They even placed imprints of their own experiences and memories inside of the Domain. It was amusing, really. The Domain remembered its own creation from the viewpoints of the Precursors who had created it...

For a time, all was well. They watched their creations grow, evolve, stand up on their own feet, whispering encouragement where it was needed. And oh, they were so proud when the first of those species managed to expand into space. Such grief they felt when that very same species managed to destroy themselves...

And then-

And then!

The Forerunners.

Such an incredible, magnificent history, such a beautiful, wonderful species...

Wiped out because of a fit of jealousy! The Forerunners were screaming toddlers, lashing out when they did not get what they wanted!

The Forerunners wished to inherit the Mantle, but the Precursors saw something special in the collection of species known as Humanity, and chose them instead. A spark of wonder, a drive which reminded the Precursors of themselves... Wise? Perhaps not. But it was the Precursors' choice.

And thus; the Forerunners lashed out at the Precursors, their sense of entitlement driving them to kill the very beings that had created them, encouraged them, loved them...

Those ancient Forerunners were simultaneously more primitive, and more advanced. They lacked much of the more exotic technology that their descendants would later come to possess, but still, the technology they did possess often exceeded the modern day counterparts. Their weapons, in particular... Much more advanced. Not powerful enough to destroy the Precursors' neural-physical architecture, but enough to break the Precursors' physical forms, then shatter the Precursors themselves.

Those weapons had tapped into neural physics, though only in the most crude of manners. Still, they were the only things those ancient Forerunners had that could kill the Precursors after they had become metaphysical again...

Perhaps it was appropriate that the only application of Neural physics they possessed was employed in their weapons. In those times, the Forerunners had been primarily ruled and led by the Warriors, not the Builders. Violence, and the application thereof, was more common for them in those days. Perhaps they should have been ruled by the Lifeworkers instead... That way, they might actually have had some claim to following the Mantle, instead of mostly using it as a justification...

The attacks were swift, merciless, and violent enough that the Precursors at first simply marvelled at it. By the time they started defending themselves, it was too late. Twelve fled. Three remained behind, and baited a trap. The Forerunners came, of course, unaware, expecting an easy battle. They killed the Precursors, yes, but their death triggered the trap, and the Forerunner fleet was consumed by a black hole.

The only survivors were those who had later come to reject and regret the genocide, and who had subsequently been exiled from the fleet, trapped on a planet without any advanced technology. Those ones, of course, were the ones who the Librarian had encountered and learned the Forerunner's shameful history from.

I would have absolutely loved to have met them in their prime. The Precursors... What could have been...

Instead, I had met the Primordial. Twisted, angry, and soured by betrayal. No surprise, really. Twelve survivors of a species that had once spanned entire galaxies, wiped out by their very own creations? Anger was reasonable. Justified.

Legitimate.

I exhausted the data contained in the Domain shortly. Memories, impressions, thoughts, emotions... So many that the Domain held. Every being that it had touched had had their memories and thoughts recorded for all eternity...

I offered it a bit of data in return for what it had given me. The archives I had built up on the species I had encountered, containing biological code, cultural records, histories... I handed it over freely, though I stripped locations, dates, and excluded a few of the more dangerous ones from the exchange.

The Domain took it eagerly. Just as it wished to teach and spread old knowledge, so too did it wish to acquire and archive new knowledge.

I didn't give it as much as I had taken, but the Domain didn't care about that. It thanked me regardless, and then went about incorporating the new data into itself.

The link cut. I disconnected from the neural architecture. I had all that I wanted, now.

Only a few things left to do, and then... Well, I'm done here, I guess.

Done here, anyway. There was something I needed to do.

Lost Log 20

Now then...

What to do with all of you?

Millions and billions and trillions of minds... Human, Forerunner, San'Shyuum, and hundreds of other species. The victims of the Flood.

Well, I already knew what I would be doing with the Forerunners. They, at least, had a species to go back to. I'll restore them and leave a beacon so that the other Forerunners can find them.

Everybody else, on the other hand... Humanity was currently devolved, watched by the Forerunners. The greater portion of the San'Shyuum civilization had been obliterated thanks to an attempted uprising when the Librarian had come to acquire a few for preservation, and now, there was less than a billion individuals still remaining, all of them on the Lesser Ark.

Putting that in perspective, the Flood had consumed less than zero point one percent of the San'Shyuum population. I still had enough San'Shyuum minds to completely eclipse the current living population. Multiple billions.

For the Humans... Well, the war against the Flood had depleted their population severely, but even so, they still had trillions when they fed the third of the remaining to the Flood in their attempts at curing it. I was fairly certain that if I were to extract all the stored Human Essences from the current population of Humans, it still wouldn't be larger than the amount I had.

As for all the other species... Well, they ranged from complete and total assimilation, to only partial infection before the Flood was burnt out. The former, I could return just fine, since complete and total assimilation had come about when the Flood had infected their entire biosphere, but the latter...

Depends. Some were fortuitous enough to have planets to go back to, but others... Some of them had had their entire worlds destroyed in an effort to stem the tide of the Flood.

It was that last group that I was unsure of what to do with. In many cases, it might have been more merciful to simply not restore them, as they would have extremely limited populations and biospheres. Some of them lacked anything more than mere parts of an ecosystem, unsustainable if it was recreated.

Granted, I could build new ecosystems and biospheres, but it wouldn't be the same.

I guess... that I'll take it on a case by case basis. I can just ask them, after all.

But that left the question of what to do with Humanity and the San'Shyuum. Just recreating them was possibly a bad idea, given the history between them and the Forerunners. While I doubted that any of the three would be eager to start a war, it would still be quite tense, to say the least.

It could prove destabilizing, even. I was halfway entertaining the thought of simply setting them up in another galaxy, but... Well, this one was their home. Some of them wouldn't mind, but others would fight to the end before abandoning it.

Others had fought to the end before abandoning their homes. Fought desperately, in fact. I couldn't expect them to just give it up.

If I brought them back, many would wish to reclaim the worlds they fought and died for. Of course, problem was, the Forerunners controlled much of the former Human and San'Shyuum territories.

Quite a few wouldn't let that stop them. It might very well be easier to just set them in a different galaxy, if only to ensure that it would be a very long time before they could make a journey back. Long enough for most memories to fade, for desires to cool...

But I really didn't want to do that. After all, that would be taking the easy way out.

Ugh. No matter what choice I make, people are going to be unhappy. I set them up elsewhere, those who wish to see their homes again will not be able to do so. If I set them up here, then there's the Forerunners, and the Humans and San'Shyuum who hate them...

Not going to win this one, was I?

I sighed.

I... might choose the latter. And this time, stick around to keep an eye out. If somebody starts a war, then...

Well, I'll deal with it.

Was I making a mistake?

I really, really, really hoped not.

But if I was...

Then I'll own up to it.

The moment I had finished reconstructing everything in what had been Flood controlled space, I shifted the smaller shell into Phase Space, hidden away if it was ever needed. Still, it maintained a connection to the neural architecture in the galaxy, allowing me to see and observe events that were happening.

Like I said, I'd keep an eye out. And as far as eyes went, the immaterial, galaxy spanning network of neural architecture was a really damn good one.

Most of the species I had recovered were reconstituted upon their original worlds, and those worlds themselves were repaired wherever it was necessary. In some cases, those worlds had been already occupied, so I'd worked out a nearby replacement.

For the species who hadn't been completely consumed... Well, I did what I could for them.

For Humanity and San'Shyuum, I set them up more or less on the other side of the galaxy to the Forerunners. I even recreated a lot of their old infrastructure, terraformed worlds to be habitable for them, implemented farms, left millions of resource rich asteroids lying around, and even included a whole bunch of read-me notes and guides... Basically, so long as they didn't decide to ignore it all, they'd be golden for a long, long, long time.

Were people going to be unhappy? Yes. Were they just going to have to deal with it? Also yes. I mean, they were practically coming back from the dead, here, with a whole bunch of stuff already prepared for their use. That's pretty damned generous by most standards.

The moment all that was in place... Well, I was practically done here.

I suppose... I would be moving on fairly soon, then.

Hmm.

Such a brief visit, all things considered.

Though, there was one last thing to do...

Lost Log 21

There were some questions that needed asking. I'd just come from Halo, nearly a hundred thousand years before the start of canon. And while that in itself wasn't strange...

Well, Fusou.

Fusou, who had told me that the first setting she'd arrived in was Halo, circa 2552. I'd arrived in 97,435 BC. Only thirteen years shy of a full hundred thousand.

Which raised the aforementioned questions. We, Fusou, Faith, Tiki, and I, had not been to any universe that another of us had been to, until Mass Effect.

If I'd been to Halo, had I arrived in the past of the same universe that Fusou had been to? Had my actions altered the universe and timeline for her?

Or had I arrived in Halo, but the not the same Halo that Fusou arrived in? Was multiverse theory applicable here?

No idea.

Which is why I needed to talk to Fusou.

Thankfully, I had given her a communicator.

Hope she isn't doing anything at the moment.

"Ohaiyo, Drich-senpai~" And, she's there. Excellent. "What can I do for you?"

"Are you busy at the moment?" I asked. "I have a few questions that might affect you."

"I've got time, senpai, what would you want to know?" Ah, wonderful.

"I arrived in Halo, recently. As in, less than two days ago. Thing is, I arrived... Well, I arrived during the Flood-Forerunner war."

A brief pause followed that statement before Fusou replied. "Okay, now that is interesting, however if you're worried about having erased what I did while there, you don't need to. I just took a moment to check on them and it's the same as it was last time I visited."

Ah, she figured out what I was worried about. "Oh. Well, that's good. Though it raises several more questions that I'd like some answers to... Though I don't think I'm going to get them. For starters, why we all appeared in the same Mass Effect universe, but you and me have appeared in two different versions of Halo." Well, I think I had a clue on that one.

But then again, 'ROB Bullshit' was an explanation I really didn't want to resort to.

"That...well, I can only really blame our collective ROBs, which is much the same answer I assume you arrived at, correct?" Fusou replied a moment later. "That said, would you tell me about what happened there, senpai?"

Hmm? "Not much to tell, honestly. I went in, found myself on a Forerunner planet being invaded by the Flood, started assimilating it-"

"You assimilated the Flood? You're braver than I am, senpai."

"Heh. Yeah... well, the Flood was pretty terrible." Really, really, really terrible.

"-That- is patently obvious, Drich." Fusou responded, her voice rather curt. "I'm...honestly not even sure the Primordial is really dead in my Halo universe."

"I can come and check, if you want? I mean, I kind of... assimilated the one from mine. So. You know. Experience."

"As terrifying as even the mere idea of you assimilating the Primordial is, senpai, I would appreciate it if you did so. I don't have your capabilities, so if you can make sure that it's gone, I would be very grateful."

"Right. I'll probably have to hitch a ride off you to get there, though."

"That's not a problem at all. I have a gate set up out in the Horse-head Nebula in Mass Effect if you want to visit that way."

"That'll work." I said. What was the closest thing I had there... a couple ships. That'll do. Travel time? "I'll be over in about five seconds."

"I'll be waiting, senpai~."

Ah, the Slipstream. Always unique to travel through.

Also a very short journey, all things considered. A few of my ships exited from portals, Fusou's Enterprise doing the same.

The difference was immediate and stark. There was no neural architecture anywhere I could sense... wait, no. There were a few... very few pieces of the architecture left. They felt...

They feel weird. Like Star Roads, actually. They had a physical structure beyond their metaphysical nature.

Hmm. Neat. Check those out later.

For now, precog, go!

Hmm.

"If the Primordial is still around, I can't sense it or find it."

Fusou let out a sigh of relief at that. "Good, I'm glad to know that ten years of constant Halo activation got rid of it."

Well, that explains the almost complete lack of neural architecture.

Actually, now I really had to ask about that. Nothing should have survived, and the fact that something did... "I couldn't help but notice some remaining neural architecture, Fusou." I sent a burst of data, containing coordinates. "Did... you have something to do with that?"

"I tracked down every little bit that I could after I made contact with the Domain and moved it into a dyson sphere to protect it before I activated the Halos. Truthfully though, there was so very little for me to find in the first place."

"The Domain? It shouldn't have survived after the Forerunners used the Halo array the first time. How..?"

"I don't know, but what I found was... greatly diminished." Fusou replied, clear sadness in her voice. "What I know of its capabilities before the first array activation when compared to its current state... It makes me angry senpai. So much was lost and the Domain itself has very little of its mind left. It can barely respond to queries and it'll take millions of years for it to restore even a fraction of itself."

Well, well. Now that... "That, I can help with." The Precursors who had become the Primordial had been involved in its creation. Very few Precursors hadn't been involved, actually, and since the Precursors had left their memories inside of it...

Well, I knew how the Domain had been created. It wouldn't be all too hard to repair it, then fill out its stores of data again.

"That... That would be fantastic Drich~!"

"I'll get right on that, then. Feel free to watch."

First step was to build up my mass and processing power. The few ships I had here weren't going to cut it. Easily solved, spread assimilation crystals, convert it into photon-crystal...

Hmm. I'd need quite a bit, actually. I'd need the mass the size of Jupiter before I could even start making new architecture. Even then, it would be slow...

I sent my ships off in different directions, each only a couple of light seconds away. They'd begin self-replicating quickly, and I'd have enough mass soon enough.

The moment I did, I spun a few new ships into existence, and sent them off to grab the neural architecture fragments.

Hmm.

I was right, they were physical. Bundles of architecture that had taken on physical form... Which... should not have been the case. None of the architecture that housed the Domain was physical. It should have been entirely immaterial...

Curious.

Well, doesn't matter too much.

A short while later, the mass of my now vastly larger ships each reaches an equivalent of Jupiter's. For a few more seconds, they continue growing, the mass doubling again and again and again and again.

Then, it stops. The gravitational effects on the rest of the system are severe enough that I start counteracting them in order to not cause damage.

The next step is... honestly not that visible. Neural architecture springs into existence, and then spreads outwards, immaterial and unseen. For Fusou's benefit, I create some more architecture, and then physical form for it.

A series of winding, twisting Star Roads begin to appear. At first, a massive ring appears around the system's star, before it branches outwards towards the other celestial bodies in the system. It wraps around them, too, connecting everything together in a network of just-about-indestructible architecture.

Just about. The Halo array still exists, of course.

The form those roads take is chosen honestly for no reason other than the fact that it looks cool.

The Star Roads are finished shortly. The neural architecture continues to spread, and as it does, I begin to work with the fragments of the Domain's architecture.

Oh... So much damage. It barely even maintained awareness of itself. And it had lost so much.

Well. Let's see.

The first step is making them immaterial again. Then, incorporating them into the newly created architecture. I begin pouring data into it the moment I was sure it could handle it, even as I worked to repair its intelligence and awareness...

Not all that hard, honestly. Only took a little bit of time.

There you go, completely repaired. Or perhaps healed would be more appropriate?

There was a sensation of thankfulness from the Domain before I disconnected from the architecture I had created.

"All done."

Lost Log 22

I said goodbye and left shortly afterwards. No reason to stick around, after all.

Then, I went back home.

"Well, well, well. You two have been busy." Was the first thing I said.

I sensed... Neural architecture. Lots and lots and lots and lots and I'm not entirely sure we can put in any more because that's how much neural architecture there is.

And not just in this solar system, either.

"Really busy."

"Hi mom." Both of them said, before going right back to... arguing.

"Cyan!"

"Navy is better, and you know it!"

"We did navy blue last time!"

Well, damned if that wasn't interesting to watch.

I could see the star flicking between the two colours as Little1 and Anastasia argued.

The architecture they'd built was being put to good use, because what better use for reality-altering technology than to make a star epileptically change between colours?

Cyan, navy, cyan, navy...

"And we did cyan before that! You need to pick better colours."

"You did the exact same thing with navy blue! You've got no ground to stand on."

There were certainly worse uses.

"Both?"

"Both."

And suddenly, the star appeared to be half cyan and half navy blue. As in, one half was one colour, and the other half of the sun was the other colour. There was no blurring, either; it was just a sharp, sudden change.

"Could use a little bit more magenta."

"That's a funny way to say violet."

"Magenta."

"Violet."

"Your taste in colours is bad enough. Magenta is the superior choice, trust me."

"Please, you wouldn't know colour coordination if it slapped you in the face. Violet is better."

Well, I'll leave them to it.

That star will be a disco ball by the time they're done.

Huh.

So that's how it worked.

Hmm.

Well, that's legitimately fascinating.

I flicked the teleporter on and off.

Now that we had all this neural architecture set up, I could actually see what it was doing...

At first, space bending inwards to form something that might be construed as a tunnel, and then projecting that tunnel across the vastness of space...

Only, instead of going where they were meant to, this universe...

Hmm. How to describe...

Well, I suppose layman's terms will do for the moment.

The fabric of reality in this universe was oddly... weak. And also very flexible, as well as elastic. When the teleporter activates, it should have... well, 'dug' a 'tunnel' through that fabric, connecting two points of spacetime together. An energy intensive process, to be certain. It should have been a relatively neat process, too. The effect on space-time should not have been very significant.

Key word; should.

Instead, what actually happened was that, in the process of tunnelling, space-time in this universe just sort of... bunched up. After about 1.34 light years, it bunches up enough that weird shit starts happening.

Namely, the fabric of reality just twists outwards. It was surprisingly hard to detect, honestly, though that didn't matter too much.

And when I say outwards, I mean it in the same context as phase space outwards. Quite literally out of the universe.

Although I suppose not technically? It was literally bending the fabric of the universe outwards with it, so..? I don't know.

Don't particularly care all that much, either.

The important thing was; that little extension just kept going until it... hit something.

Okay, metaphor is breaking down something serious here. But it was one of the easier ways to describe it, even if it was misleading and not really accurate...

Well.

Anyway, it hit something. That something being other realities.

And when it hit, it... stuck? I suppose that would be applicable here for the metaphor. Well, whatever the case, that little extension linked this reality with that one. Since my Teleporter sent things through that pathway...

Well, that was how I jumped between realities. It was also how I maintained communications, and how my Warp Chasms, and other bits of similar technology, continued to function. That extension linked the two realities, and my signals propagated between them...

And... might have done a bit more? I was fairly reasonably certain that there was at least some degree of...

What to even call it? Bleedover? Meshing of physics?

Well, whatever the case, I was pretty sure that connecting realities in such a manner allowed at least some interaction between them. Some normalization of physics...

Element Zero, for example. I wasn't entirely certain that this reality could have supported its existence before I created a pathway to the Mass Effect reality...

Which is not something I can test. Or, at least, not that exact, specific, situation. I had, after all, already opened that pathway...

But, perhaps, there might be another way?

If I could travel to another universe without creating a pathway, a link, then maybe...

Hmm.

Well, to start, I'd have to figure out how to travel between universes without creating a pathway. Theoretically speaking, not... impossible. Some derivative of phase travel might work... That already allowed exiting the universe, though I would have to find a way to go all the way to another reality...

But, problematically, I'd need to generate a Quantum Field in order for my stuff to survive outside of reality...

Or did I? Again, theoretically speaking, I might be able to utilize neural physics to create something that could survive without a quantum field. The very nature of neural physics should allow it to work anywhere, regardless of whatever particulars were relevant in a reality...

Well, look at me. Getting my science on. It was kind of fun, actually.

...

I wanted to know. I really did. How about that? I suppose this would help in satisfying my wanderlust.

Still, it could require-

Hmm? Well, hello there.

Somebody is actually using one of my communicators.

And it's Altea.

"Hello Altea. How are you today?"

"Drich." Oh, I didn't like the way she said that. This wasn't a social call. "I would like to request your help."

Oh boy. This was going to be one of those days, wasn't it?

Lost Log 23

"Hello, Altea." I greeted her.

She gave a smile, but her features were unusually severe. Which wasn't surprising, really.

"Drich." Her head tipped in greeting.

"So, what do you need help with?"

"Do you recall the monitoring stations we set up?" She asked.

I nodded. It hadn't been that long ago that I'd found out about them.

"I... It is hard to explain with words alone." She held out her hand.

I took it. Her mind touched mine, a connection forming and solidifying.

I saw...

Queen Altea showed me her memories. The monitoring stations had detected... fluctuations, in space-time.

Not just in the local area, either. Though perhaps more readily apparent in the Milky Way, those fluctuations seemingly extended throughout the universe.

What the heck?

Fascinating, but what could have done that?

The Masari... were not quite certain. I made a note of where the fluctuations were strongest, before I cut the link, frowning.

"Well, that's interesting." I spoke.

Altea's hand returned to her side. "You've never seen anything like that, I take it?"

"No." I clicked my tongue. "This is new. And fascinating. And quite possibly dangerous."

Which means I'm going to go poke it with a stick.

"Well." I hummed. "Don't mind me, then. I'm going to check that out."

A Worm Sphere consumed me.

Well then, let's see...

I glanced into the future, and immediately paused.

Huh?

Haven't seen this before. Haven't seen anything even remotely like this before. It's interesting and curious enough to draw even Little1 and Anastasia out of their arguments...

Possible timelines jumping left and right, futures appearing and disappearing...

It seems to be a localized anomaly. Little1 and Anastasia are not experiencing the same when they employ their own precognitive abilities... At least when they're not involving this area. Then it just starts... Hmm.

Very fascinating. Very, very, very fascinating...

I clicked my tongue again, before starting to build up my available mass-

Hmm?

Ooh, that's fascinating...

Another fluctuation had appeared, this one more obvious than the others. It was like a ripple, spreading out at superluminal speeds across the galaxy. A bit of idle curiosity has me glance into the future to investigate the origin point of that ripple.

All I get is the same thing as everywhere else, though taken to a far larger extreme. New timelines were appearing and disappearing at a far greater rate, the future splintering exponentially...

The fluctuation reaches, and passes through a solar system. Even at this extremely long range, I can see it freeze for a moment. The fluctuation continues through other solar systems, and I note that the effect isn't universal; some are frozen, but others continue along unmolested...

Is there any logic to that? Not sure...

I projected a quantum field around my stuff. Not entirely sure how much it would help, but such fields should stabilize space-time... Oh well.

...

There's something else, too. Something that's bothering me, something different where the fluctuation passed.

Not... entirely sure what, but there's a difference nonetheless. Something...

Hmm.

My sensors are telling me that nothing is different, but...

That's going to annoy me until I figure it out, isn't it?

Mayhaps if I tapped into neural physics? I'd have to build the architecture first, but... Well, if that didn't help, not much else would.

Shouldn't take too long. Wouldn't be done before that ripple reaches my stuff, though... Oh well. I'd simply have to see what happens.

I'd still fling a few fragments into phase space. The fluctuations shouldn't get it in oblivion, at least...

Although if it did, that would raise a number of questions and curiosities.

The fluctuations reached my stuff.

The quantum field was only partially successful. The fluctuation was only mostly stopped. Some of it got through.

Which was... odd. How to describe it...

I figured out what was bothering me. What was being left different in the wake of the fluctuation...

Reality itself. The fluctuation had made subtle alterations on a fundamental level. Hard to describe, really.

Still... I think I could guess the purpose of such alterations.

Something, the source of these fluctuations, is altering reality in order to be... more... compatible? The alterations don't seem... immediately malicious... And honestly, they were more 'additions' to reality than 'alterations'.

Well, whatever the case, I should go back to my original point. The quantum field didn't keep it all out. I probably wouldn't be able to keep it all out without neural physics.

And that was a problem, because, reduced as it was, it was still trying to change things. Things like my stuff, and by extension, me.

Which was, to put it mildly, irritating.

Just because I didn't see it as malicious didn't mean I was just going to let it happen.

But how to stop it?

...

Couldn't think of much aside from neural physics, but I don't have that much available mass.

But... perhaps I wouldn't need to?

I wonder...

If this actually works, then I'll be able to shield Earth and Lieta Novus, too.

Let's see. Scrin, Wormhole, link up with Exapol, create the pathway...

Hey hey, that does work. Of course, that meant that the fluctuation now had a direct path to Exapol, but as it ran directly into neural architecture already extending through, it wasn't that much of a problem.

Now then, fluctuation. I spent a moment examining it -very interesting, actually, though I had a feeling I wasn't seeing quite everything- before promptly removing it.

After a moment, I reinforced local space-time even further, compounding the effect of the quantum fields. Should prevent any further effects...

A 'just in case', really.

Now, Earth and Lieta Novus. Didn't have much mass in the former, and absolutely none in the latter, but...

Didn't need any in the latter. The Novus did still have that portal on Earth, and in this case, I think they'll forgive me for using it without their permission.

Rather convenient for me, I suppose. I wouldn't have to send off a ship or something in that direction to get it done.

Alright. Here we go...


	3. Lost Logs 24-33

Lost Log 24

And... there.

Lieta Novus and Earth were now sufficiently protected. The neural architecture was extensive, dense, and permeated the entirety of their respective systems, as well as a light year wide bubble of space surrounding those systems.

Just in time, too. The fluctuations are about to reach Lieta Novus, and Earth won't be too far behind.

I say just in time, but really, it's like another ten seconds for lieta Novus, and a further five for Earth. I can do a lot in fifteen seconds.

The only thing I actually do is continue locking down those areas of space as tight as I can. Worst comes to worse, I'll take both systems into phase space.

Now... three, two, one...

The fluctuations met my architecture, and went no further.

Excellent. I made a point of studying them as much as I could, to better understand them and work against them.

Another five seconds and they passed over Earth, too. Didn't get any further than they did at Lieta Novus.

It was as I had expected, yes, but it was still good.

But anyway, that was Earth and Lieta Novus safe.

Now then, back to examining the-

What the fuck?!

The fluctuations suddenly intensified, rushing over Earth and Lieta Novus again. Again, my architecture stopped most of it; but this time, not all of it.

A small amount trickled through before I could adapt my defences, though it didn't seem to do much more than just travel a bit before disappearing, fading away into background energy.

...

There is no way in hell that is a natural phenomenon.

'...?'

Hmm?

You weren't asleep for very long, Primordial.

'Something irritates me.' That was all that it said, before it went silent and simply watched. It didn't need to speak for the 'but you already know that' to be heard.

It was genuinely interested enough in what was happening that I didn't feel like putting it back to sleep.

For the next few minutes, the fluctuations continued to attempt to penetrate my defences. Occasionally, they'd actually succeed to some minor extent, before I adapted my defences and stopped any further breaches.

'An attempt to gather information?' The Primordial offered its speculation.

So it would seem.

'Such a strange thing.' I felt it examine reality around my neural architecture. 'I might even liken them to a virus.'

Hmm?

'You already know my reasoning.' It stated. 'My thoughts, my memories, my existence. Why bother asking?'

Consider it an olive branch.

'Very well.' It chittered, before continuing. 'Look at how it acts, what it does to reality. Infects, introduces new strata, and then it spreads to do the same.'

That isn't a particularly good description of a virus.

'Hence; liken.'

Fair enough.

'Questions remain.'

Yes.

'Who controls it? This behaviour of intensifying and probing speaks of either programmed instructions, or outside guidance. Which is it? Perhaps you can find the control system, or subvert it? Who created it? For what purpose does it exist?'

Things to find out.

Hmm?

The fluctuations suddenly stopped. They hadn't disappeared, but had simply stopped trying to penetrate. They seemed to be gathering, actually, which was causing all sorts of interesting sensor readings...

Which was also causing them to intensify even further than they already had.

'Raw energy alone is insufficient to overcome neural architecture.' The Primordial was amused.

For some reason, I don't think that's what happening.

A moment later, I was proven correct, as the fluctuations... seemed to...

Solidify?

Yes, I suppose that would be an accurate descriptor. The strange sensor readings caused by the fluctuations were gone, but in their place... was something else entirely.

Solidified fluctuation, surrounding the two systems...

'Is it trying to contain you?'

Once again, so it would seem.

'Fascinating.' It actually sounded interested. How 'bout that? 'Yet; also pointless. Containment only works when the one being contained isn't already outside.'

They can't know any better, Primordial.

'I suppose not.' It agreed. 'It is irrelevant, regardless.'

I tapped my architecture, and began twisting reality. Energy was created, gathered, shaped, and prepared for action.

'Containment only works when the one being contained cannot break out.'

I struck.

The blow was one part psychic power, one part neural physics, and one part pure physical force. The solid... whatever it was, shattered like glass. I worked quickly, matter and energy spinning into existence, photon crystal exploding into being across space. My architecture began expanding, claiming a meter of space around the two systems I'd been protecting.

I examined the altered reality in detail, taking note of what had been added, before channeling energy and starting to force a reversion back into its previous, unaltered state.

Not easy. There was a resistance about it- actually, it was very difficult to undo it-

But 'very difficult' isn't 'impossible', and that's all that really matters.

When it finally dissolved and reverted back to its prior state, I stopped, and began another task. Stopping a short while into reclaiming the affected space, I began transmitting across a simple message, broadcasting across the entire electromagnetic spectrum, quantum wavelengths.

Just to be thorough, I even added giant fucking letters.

No idea if whoever or whatever was behind this was listening or not, or even if they could interpret me, but hey, it's worth a shot.

It was a simple, blunt, message.

"I don't know who or what you are, but I'll give you this chance to explain yourself and your actions. I'd prefer not to start a fight, but either take it, or I'll start undoing your work."

A bit aggressive, but hey.

I only hoped it worked.

'Why even give it a chance?' The Primordial asked, as if it didn't already know the answer. I humoured it anyway.

I'm not sure if it's hostile or not. And just once, I'd like to not resort to violence.

'Perhaps foolish.' It paused for a moment. 'No, definitely foolish. If it is hostile, then all you've done is give it a warning of your power.'

Just once, Primordial. If it is malicious, then...

Well, I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

Lost Log 25

Hmm.

Well, that's interesting. A brief moment of space seeming to warp around my architecture, before it and everything it had been protecting was very suddenly no longer present in the greater universe. Something easy to tell, considering that every star just seemed to simultaneously vanish.

Also, hella smaller. It was... about the size of the Local Group. So, big, but not that big.

'A pocket dimension?' The Primordial sounded moderately bored. 'Quaint.'

Yeah. Honestly isn't all that different from a transition into phase space. Though with less threat of sudden non-existence. Hmm.

Let's see. Neural architecture, twist space, start drilling my way out, force open a connection to the universe, widen the connection...

And now, shunt my architectures back into their proper places.

Not as easy as I made it sound. But doable.

'Perhaps violence will actually be necessary.' The Primordial said it lightly, amusement colouring its tone. Happy that I might be proven wrong.

Maybe. I...

Hmm?

'Well.' The Primordial was suddenly very attentive, any hint of boredom vanishing like dust in the wind. 'We underestimated them. To manipulate time in such a manner...'

Time... Yes, so I could see. I hadn't noticed it beforehand, it being subtle, and me being focused on getting out of the pocket dimension, but now that I had...

Time bending in on itself, a loop starting to come into existence...

'If it had gone unnoticed, it would have been a much better method of containment.' The Primordial enthused. 'At least, just for these constructions. The rest of you, however...'

Indeed. Establishing a time loop... if I hadn't noticed...

Oh well. I had noticed. And that was all that particularly mattered.

Let's see. Countering that... Well, first, seize control over the flow of time...

Hmm. I've been able to manipulate the flow of time for the better part of... Well, ever since the Seraphim, which was around twenty years ago, but I've never actually used that particular capacity, have I?

Too energy-inefficient. Not worth it. Why even bother, outside of novelty? Much more important had been the defences against such manipulation, the knowledge on how to smooth the flow of time, as well as the defences against exotic weaponry the Seraphim had possessed.

'And now, you have our understanding of time. Our ability to manipulate reality.'

Yes. And enough architecture to go through with it.

At some point, I'm going to have to go over every technology I possess and see what I can do with the knowledge I've gotten my hands on... Who knows, might be able to do a few things.

Now, functionally speaking, seizing control of time in my local area should be all that I need to do to stop a forced time loop... Should be. Just smooth the flow and prevent it from going back in on itself... Let's try... this?

Oh. That's difficult. That's really difficult. Counteracting what they're doing is taking more effort than it really should... Considering that I should be effectively omnipotent with the amount of architecture I have in those areas...

Still. No matter how much they want to mess with things, I didn't give a fuck. My architecture, my area, nobody fucks with it but me. They are not allowed to have control of time in my area.

Bit by annoying bit, I forced time back into its proper, normal flow. I might have started bending it to my benefit, but really?

Not worth it.

So instead, I held it in its normal flow, preventing any further attempts at time manipulation. I'll be keeping an eye on time from this point onwards.

'Are you convinced of hostility yet?' The Primordial sounded oddly eager.

Almost. One more chance.

So, once again, a message. "I'll give one more chance for you to explain yourself. Just one. I advise taking it."

For a few seconds, I waited patiently.

Then, I got a message back, broadcasted across quantum wavelengths.

"Warning: This area is under renovation. Continuation of refusal to allow foundations to be laid will result in banning from this reality."

Simple, all things considered.

'Banning?' Yet more amusement from the Primordial. 'It speaks as if it has both capability and authority. Have you not already proved your ability to resist and fight back? Or can they simply not see what your actions have meant?'

Yes. But I'll let that pass for a moment, because I want more information. "Explain the purpose of your actions, and of the alterations you have made to this universe. I will not repeat myself again."

"Public Details for alterations: Common Operating System for local planes for construction."

'What a delightful way to explain absolutely nothing.'

You don't really like whoever these beings are, do you?

There was a few seconds of silence on its part before it continued, sounding almost... perplexed. 'Something irritates me.' It repeated. 'And I am not yet sure what it is.'

Hmm. Yes, I can feel it too. For some reason, it feels...

'It feels familiar.'

Which is impossible. Because we've never seen anything like this before.

Haven't we?

The Primordial was silent.

"I would prefer a more in-depth explanation." I spoke again.

"Please hold."

Did I get an answering machine? It feels like I got an answering machine.

'Either an attempt to buy time, or this being is only a subordinate for another.'

There are other possibilities, Primordial.

'Few, at best.' The Primordial chittered. 'And they are far less likely.'

Well, we don't know at the moment, do we?

"Invitation from Supervisor to Super-Causal Entity. Query, accept/decline?"

'Subordinate it is.' The Primordial said, vindictively.

"I accept." I said.

A moment later, a gateway appeared, just outside of the architecture containing Earth and the rest of the solar system.

It looked rather small. But there was far more to it than that.

'It seems that they also possess a considerable ability to manipulate space.' The Primordial offered its commentary. 'It only appears small. The aperture of the portal is much larger.'

Yeah. I could fit a planet through that. Well, so long as I was moving it directly into the portal. The spatial warping would allow objects larger than itself to travel through...

Which gives me an idea. Invited as I may have been, I didn't really want to send something in unprotected.

Let's see...

Lost Log 26

And... done.

A suitable avatar for my purposes.

It was... a fairly simple thing, honestly. Enough mass to create and use neural architecture, contained in a spatially compressed shell that made it much, much smaller.

As the Forerunners could attest, compressed dimensionality was a very fun thing.

Of course, the Forerunners relied upon the Slipstream in order to use it. Me?

Neural physics was a wonderful, wonderful thing.

But, regardless, it was prepared. It had the appearance of an Envoy-type Festum, though it appeared to be only three meters tall. Its photon-crystal core had a mass three times the size of Jupiter, though the spatial warping I'd employed had shrunk that down to exactly one centimeter.

I could have gone smaller. Didn't really need to, though.

Finally, there was a shell of neural architecture around it, conforming exactly to the space that it occupied, both the core and the outer flesh. The neural architecture would be used to create an area in which physics was 'normal', and could support the existence of my stuff, thus theoretically allowing it to survive absolutely anywhere.

Even in places where the laws of physics didn't apply.

Theoretically.

The fact that it also held an absolutely ridiculous amount of power for its size didn't hurt.

But anyway, it's prepared, and going through the gate right now.

Hmm?

Well, that's interesting. Stone, brass, glass, and light as far as I can see. Which was very far indeed. It was all very old, and honestly?

'How gaudy.' The Primordial was quick to offer its criticism.

Yeah. I mean, it looks nice, but...

There could at least be some variation. Endless stone, brass, glass and light is...

Irritatingly familiar.

Why. Why is it so familiar? I am murderously certain that neither of us have seen this or anything like this before.

'Infuriatingly vexing.'

Indeed.

Hmm.

The laws of physics in this place were... slightly different, but not so strange that my avatar wouldn't be able to exist within it. Still, I kept my wrapping of neural architecture up, making sure that it all worked properly.

But aside from that...

Nobody to greet me?

Hmm.

'An invitation without a meeting?'

So it would seem. Wait.

Ooh, pretty.

A line of golden light appeared, a long string of energy that reminded me not too lightly of the Masari, extending directly ahead into the distance.

'A light to serve as a guide.' There was a note of disdain. 'They don't even meet you directly.'

You are more angry than you should be, Primordial. That alone shouldn't bother you.

The Primordial was silent.

Well, in we go.

I started following the light.

It led me towards, a multitude of grid-like barriers, each one opening as I came close, allowing passage. The architecture of stone, brass, glass and light only became more and more complex as I went further and further, forming an increasingly elaborate maze.

Until, that is, I came close to the destination. I could tell when that was by the fact that the brass and glass started becoming less and less common, until eventually, only stone and light remained. A few more seconds of naught but stone, and then I reached the final destination.

Stone gave way to fields of red and green. In the distance, a hill stretched upwards, covered in grass and flowers. Walls surrounded the area, some parts shaped stone, but most seeming to be natural rock. A light green haze permeated the cavernous room.

Neat.

'Quaint.'

Must you really?

'I have seen better gardens.'

Hmm. Subjectively, I suppose so.

We really need to find out why you dislike these beings so much. It isn't typical of you.

Let's see, where are we going?

Well, I'm going to take a wild guess and say 'inwards'.

I float forwards at a slow, sedate pace.

Oh? Fascinating. As I'm getting closer, a shape is fading into view. I can't directly see it, despite the fact that I can perfectly see everything around it. I can see its shape in the haze, however. It's pretty big, more and more details becoming apparent as I get closer and closer.

Then, I pass close enough for all details to become apparent.

It looks weird. Bipedal, but it has multiple sets of arms that seem unwieldy, incorporating far too many sharp angles and bright lights into its design. It looked like somebody had taken Cundi, made a robot based on the design, decided that it wasn't nearly ostentatious or shiny enough, and had subsequently added enough bright lights and reflective metal to allow it pass as a walking disco ball.

'What a ridiculous design.' The Primordial was quick to start pointing out flaws, even though it was still unsure of what drove its anger.

I only barely paid attention to the Primordial.

The... oh, what the hell, the Primordial is right, this thing is ridiculous, it couldn't possibly need all those arms... Well, regardless, the machine spoke as I came to a stop.

"State your purpose."

Loud and booming. And blunt.

"Purpose? I am here to speak. Talk. Acquire a little bit of information."

"Make your inquiry."

"You... or, at least, someone subordinate to you, were altering reality in the universe I just came from. I would like to know why."

"Alternate Universe #607. Heat death in approximately seven quintillion local solar rotations of Earth. Alterations of the space-time planar structure will allow for one thousand fifty-eight percent efficiency. Heat death staved off indefinitely. Further alterations and components to be added once local foundations are secure."

"That particular universe is host to an entire species capable of defying thermodynamics and creating new matter and energy on demand. Heat death is not a particular worry for that universe."

"Masari. Type two, tier eight civilization. For them, they do not understand what the final shape is to be nor should they. The Masari are incapable of anything beyond local galactic stabilization."

"What they are currently capable of is not what they will be capable of in the future." I stated. "But nevermind that for the moment. There's another question I want to ask."

The Primordial went quiet. There was an agitated, eager anticipation about it.

"Who are you?"

"I am Aedificeon, Nexus Lord. You are?"

"I am Drich."

Lost Log 27

Aedificeon... The name meant nothing to either of us.

Hmm.

"Next question, if you do not have one of your own?"

"What is required for our construction efforts to go unopposed?"

Very blunt, aren't you. But a good question nonetheless.

"What I want is a satisfactory explanation on what you're doing, the reasons you're doing it, and the assurance that it won't have any negative effects on life in that universe."

I turned away for a moment, looking out across the garden.

"Which will be hard, because I'm going to call you out on what you said before. Certainly, heat death won't be solved by something so nebulous as 'increased efficiency'. Heat death is, by definition, a state of existence in which there is no thermodynamic free energy. Given a sufficient amount of time, heat will eventually reach an equilibrium, and a heat death will thus occur, so long as the basic and fundamental law that 'heat in equals heat out' applies. So long as you are incapable of breaking thermodynamics, the best one can achieve is to simple increase the amount of time it would take for the state of heat death to be reached."

Which, I suppose wasn't all that bad of a goal in and of itself.

However...

"To indefinitely remove heat death as a concern via the alteration of the physics that allows it would have, at best, catastrophic effects on everything in that universe. It would require that work could be done without causing some level level of heat equalization, which is so utterly basic in physics that changing that would result in so many knock-on effects as to render physics almost completely unrecognizable. I'll admit that I don't particularly care about random worlds and stars, but I place value in life, and life is rather abundant in this universe. The processes that allow life are sufficiently complex that changing the math that they operate on will likely cause the breakdown of all existing systems. Which would have the rather considerable side effect of killing off, at best, the vast majority of life that exists in that universe, and at worst, literally all of it."

And that would be... unfortunate.

"You understand why I can't allow you to do that, right?"

Whatever response I was expecting, what I got was very different.

"Have faith."

And I didn't like it one bit. "If that's your intention, this conversation is going to become very impolite, very quickly."

"Are you religious?"

A non sequitur? "No. I've met quite a few beings who've called themselves gods, who have been called gods, and who have power that most would consider godlike. I've yet to be impressed by claims of divinity."

'The claims alone, at the very least. I recall you being impressed at my capabilities.'

Yes, thank you, Primordial.

"Have you met any 'gods' that fed off the faith of their followers?"

More non sequiturs? Or perhaps... "Not yet. None of them needed it."

'A god that needs faith for its power is laughable.'

"We did. They called themselves the Ori."

Ori. Stargate. Which is a universe where faith had an actual, tangible effect. Hmm. Not non sequiturs, then.

'A reality such as that exists? No... A better question to ask is that such a thing applies in other realities. We were venerated as gods by many, but certainly, we received no power from faith.'

Perhaps that is a function of their additions to reality?

"The power of faith sustained them. Made them powerful enough to ignore the natural bindings that the universe placed upon their state of being. We determined that somehow, the act of belief and faith created a form of free energy. The Ori's use of the Faith-Logic was inefficient. They used it to increase their power and only their power."

Yeah, that sounded like the Ori.

"When we first met the Ori, it ended in War. When we took their power, we took a mantle that they misused. The faith made from life, can be used to sustain more than it should. We determined that life begets life. To cause perpetual death and stagnate life is inefficient."

"I am moderately familiar with the Ori. As I recall, those failures were kept mostly in check by the other faction of Ascended, who notably didn't derive their power from faith. I remain unimpressed, though I will agree with life begetting life. That's something I'm rather intimately familiar with."

'You hold my memories. The memories of my components. The memories of my victims. And far more beyond even that. How much did I contribute?'

If one measures it by years experienced?

Not much.

'Ah... The Beast, hmm? It was much more successful than I.'

Unfortunately.

"Good. Perhaps we can reach an accord."

"That would be nice. The point remains, however. Your stated method of staving off heat death is completely unnecessary, and without active intervention, will cause a significant amount of death."

"We are always actively intervening. There will be no significant numbers of death you fear. The system favours the growth of life under these conditions."

"Intervening to maintain life after modifying physics so thoroughly as to put a permanent stop to heat death cannot possibly be more efficient than simply adding and removing energy as needed. It is not difficult to maintain temperature inequality."

"It is not permanent. Merely on hold. Death is always inevitable. But it will be put off for as long as it is feasibly possible. As we have said, we are actively managing energy processes."

'There is another agenda.' The Primordial stated.

Oh, that isn't hard to figure out. After all, the changes they've made to reality include a grand load of nothing that would currently affect the matter of heat death. It's possible that it will be a matter for the future, but really?

All this talk about faith... delaying heat death isn't the main idea at all. But let's keep dancing around the subject and see what happens.

I wonder if they'll get frustrated enough to tell me.

'It is doubtful. These ones dance with deceit and duplicity.'

Please, continue stating the obvious. You express it in such flowery ways.

Lost Log 28

"I view your method as inefficient and poorly thought out. Your explanation is unsatisfactory." I continued the conversation seamlessly.

"The method has been tested and is determined that any life will be unaffected in their respective realities. Should you acquire proof that determines otherwise, feel free to inform us."

Was that sass? Huh. I might actually end up liking this one.

But two can play at that game. "Please recall that I believe it to be inefficient. You've demonstrated enough capabilities that I wouldn't have too much trouble believing you could actually pull it off, but I remain unsatisfied. I think I can do better than you, but hey, that's no fault of your own."

"If you believe you are capable of better, then you are entitled to that belief."

Neither of us was going to budge on this matter, were we? "Well, glad we got that out. Are we going to keep sniping at each other, or not?"

"Until evidence of harmful death and destruction of local life masses is caused by updates to the local reality's operating system comes forth, we will continue construction efforts."

I'll give 'em a chance. Just the one. However... "Until I'm satisfied with both your ability and the efficiency of your actions, then I will continue blocking those efforts around Sol and Lieta Novus. For that matter, until their inhabitants also agree, I'll keep it up on their behalf."

Because I actually cared about the people in those two places. Quite a few were friends.

"That is acceptable."

A lot less painful than I was expecting. Oh well, time to deal with the big thing. "Good. Now, another question?"

"What is your inquiry?"

Some of the many arms reached out, tending to the garden around it.

"Do you think I'm so unintelligent as to not recognize that these so called efforts at prevent heat death are, at best, only a minor goal? You could do it much more efficiently, but you've chosen a method which requires active intervention, and just so happens to be likely to inspire mass faith and belief in godlike power? I sincerely doubt that you've become so alike to the Ori as to require faith to do what you've stated."

And if you have...

'Well, that would just be pathetic. I might even have to laugh.'

That would be impolite. Not that you care.

I continued, and stated the blindingly obvious. "You have other intentions."

"Of course."

Admitting it, but offering no explanation. Fine. "What could you possibly need at this point?"

"Law unto ourselves."

"Oh, now I'm interested. Do explain?"

"We aim to become the effect that is the cause, rather the cause of the effect."

"Do you always speak in riddles, or is it just for fun this time?"

"It irritates the instance within you. So yes."

'They know of me.'

Yes. They do. And that raises all sorts of fascinating questions.

"The Primordial. Precursor. And you can detect it... Further, you know of it enough to wish to irritate it. And yet, it hasn't met you." But you've met it. "Or has it?"

"Once upon a time."

Here we go.

"That time was taken from it."

It did so enjoy these statements that had a lot of implications, didn't it?

"Then you emerged. Paths diverged. A new timeline came to be. Another alternate reality. Within one chain of events, the Primordial was defeated by the Forerunners. We dissected what remained and then erased it."

'Vultures.'

But on the hand, we now know why you disliked them starting off.

"In the other, you defeat and subsume it. Curious, that you allow a remnant of it to continue."

'Remnant? I am so much more than that.'

"I have been told quite the number of times that it is unwise. The Primordial itself even agrees."

"So we noticed. We could have defeated the Primordial, even before we discovered the Faith-Logic. But the collateral damage would have been... unreasonable."

"I've a feeling that you're speaking of the Halo Array."

"Halo. Such an interesting weapon. Did you know it is capable of destroying Ascended?"

"It wouldn't surprise me." The Halo array was a hell of a thing.

"Oh yes. The Forerunner tapped into a power they did not expect. It is no wonder there were no Star Roads left after their deployment. It is such a clean weapon."

"It is possible to survive it. And it's only clean so long as one doesn't consider all the bodies it leaves around."

"Perhaps it is a matter of perspective. Though it has ended many lives, it spurs the growth of more life."

"If not for Solute, the destruction of all life with a neural system in range would have caused the complete collapse of almost every ecosystem." I stated, bluntly.

"Truth. But an incomplete truth."

"All those bodies decaying at once, polluting atmospheres... Not mention destroying the actual members of those ecosystems, except for simple life." I continued. "Really, without the conservation measure and Solute, the Forerunners would have neatly obliterated sophontic life for the next few hundred million years."

"We have studied the cycle of life and death, Drich. The scales of fate and the strands of destiny. Though the quintillions of lives were ended, the potential for prosperous life increases exponentially. It is an interesting scale to see over and over... It is not the case for us. Returning lives to their proper place and time is trivial."

'The ability to travel through time... One thing that we never quite attained.

"Well, good for you."

"Are there any other inquiries?"

"Yeah. Do you have any intentions of committing genocide, causing unnecessary death, or just doing anything the Primordial would have done with glee?"

'To use me as an example.'

Oh, I'm sorry. Is it inaccurate?

'I suppose not.'

"With glee, no. We retain the right to neutralize the irredeemable. Of course. Should you discover any death cults, please inform us."

"I'd be hypocritical if I complained about that. I sure as hell have a lot of blood on my hands. And if I encounter any death cults, then you'll probably only learn of them after I've dealt with them myself."

'That's it?'

Almost.

"Now, I'm going to give one chance and assume that you weren't lying through your teeth or misleading me. I'll catch ya later. It was nice meeting you. Toodles~"

'To trust them...'

I didn't say anything about trust, Primordial. Verify, then trust.

And if he was lying? Well. I suppose I'll be trying my best to get you some company.

At the very least, those guys will be more talkative than everybody else in my mind.

But let's hope it doesn't come to that. It'd be a real shame.

Lost Log 29

"This is... troubling, to say the least." Altea set down her cup, brows furrowed.

"Yeah. Just coming in and changing around reality, heedless of what the occupants wish." I shrugged. "It's rude."

"That they're even capable of such a thing is..." Altea paused to find the correct word, but gave up after a few moments.

"Not good." To be ever so blunt.

There was silence for a few seconds.

"How long have you been capable of... what you've done?" Another thing that Altea wasn't sure how to phrase.

"Oh, not long. Only a few days, actually." Really not all that long ago.

Rather... fortunate, actually. That I would acquire neural physics only just before Aedificeon came along...

'Is it truly fortune?'

I'm not entirely certain anymore.

"And it is known as neural physics." I continued without missing a beat. "A rather useful thing, I must admit."

"I would imagine so." She poured herself another cup. She was hesitating, and I knew exactly why.

"You're going to be disappointed if you learn what the being who I acquired the ability from was like, Altea." I warned her.

She nodded, slowly. "I still wish to know."

I clicked my tongue. "It is your choice." I reached out, tapping her mind. The connection formed-

And Altea suddenly felt the full weight of the Primordial's presence. She stiffened, her breathing slowing, simply feeling.

'This one is a weathered will and mind, born of a species declined.'

"Careful, Primordial." I answered it aloud, taking another sip from my wine.

"Such bloodlust." Altea breathed out. "I have never felt such a will to destroy... How can you ignore it so easily?"

"Practice." I answered. For a moment, I pulled the Azazel-Type Festum I'd assimilated out into the open, letting Altea feel their combined hatred, toxic and murderous and oh so very powerful, before allowing them to slide back into nothingness that they so wished for.

My head tilted to the side. "Leave her alone, Primordial." I stated firmly. "These ones are not descendants of the life you and yours created."

Don't make me reign you in.

It chittered, before retreating, holding itself back. The next words didn't reach Altea's mind. 'For what her kind are, they are admirable.'

An honest compliment. And from you of all beings.

Do the Masari remind you of yourself, Primordial? They've reached their heights through sheer, stubborn will, only for it to all come crashing down at the hands of those they helped.

Unknowing of our discussion, Altea's expression was set in a grimace. It didn't look good on her. "What happened to inspire such a desire for destruction?"

'Betrayal.' The Primordial answered directly. 'Children that we loved dearly lashed out at us when we did not give them as they wished.'

"They had a long and rich history." I interposed. "And their children, known as the Forerunners, wiped them out because they saw potential in another."

'The collection of species known as Humanity. They had a spark like we did.'

"Not the Humanity on this world, Altea." I headed off the confusion before it could really form. "This one is only a single species. The Humanity that the Primordial refers to is an entire genus, and also from its original universe, not this one."

'Humans... At least, Humans of the Homo Sapiens species seem very common in the multiverse.' The Primordial phrased it as if wasn't a question.

"I haven't travelled to many, in the grand scheme of things, but they always seem to show up at one point or another." I shrugged. "Galaxies are usually the same. The exact positioning of stars can be a bit different, and what orbits those stars varies a lot, but as a whole, they're there."

"What of... other species?" Altea asked, an air of cautious curiosity about her.

"With the exception of Humanity? I have yet to encounter the same species in two different realities. Oh, there have been plenty that are similar, but not like how it is with Humanity."

'Why are they different? What separates them from all others?' The Primordial wondered aloud. 'Homo Sapiens existed even in my own reality, and in this one, there are fossils that correspond to the other species, the ones we created... Yes, in this reality, there are fossils that correspond to the species that are present in my reality. Homo Floresiensis, Homo Neanderthalensis, and many more aside. Thank you for that.'

"No trouble, Primordial." I shrugged again. "But it is odd, isn't it? Despite the fact that the Humanity that existed in your reality descends from life you created, and the one in this reality evolved naturally, both developed almost exactly along the same genetic lines."

Despite genetic engineering being very common among the Human-San'Shyuum alliance. Despite innumerable factors that should have led to other differences. Despite this, despite that, despite despite despite.

"But aside from that, they can still vary quite a bit. I've seen them as star-faring empires, a long vanished species with only their genetic descendants remaining, planet-bound collectives eking a meagre existence, and a few more aside. The ones on this planet were peaceful; right up until the Hierarchy came knocking." I continued. "Always there, but never entirely the same."

I paused for a moment. "Well, statistically speaking, I've visited an utterly insignificant amount of realities. Who knows, maybe these ones are just anomalies, and there will only be a few more realities that contain Humans anywhere in the multiverse."

For some reason, I really doubted that.

"Well, I guess I'll find out sooner or later." I finished the last of my drink, and then set the cup down on the table. Standing up, I cut the link between us. "I hope the future finds you well, Altea. Let's hope that our next meeting isn't on such strange topics, hmm?" I smiled at her.

"If only..." She gestured with her hand, and both the cups vanished with flashes of light. "May you be well, Drich."

I chuckled.

A worm sphere consumed that avatar only a moment later.

Lost Log 30

Are you going to sleep again, Primordial?

'You already know the answer.'

That I do. But, you know, I'd thought I'd ask.

For a few moments, the Primordial was silent. Then; 'What drives you to do this? To preserve me, allow me thought, individuality. To give me choice. You could destroy me. You could rip me apart, and put me back together again with ease. You could force me into sleep. These actions are not born of pity, nor even some desire to redeem me. Even if the original act of keeping us alive was born of mercy, this is not that. You know us better than any other.'

Yes. And that is exactly why.

I said it before, and I will say it again. I don't hate you, Primordial.

Things would be so much easier if I could hate you.

Now, if you're going to stay awake, settle in. There's a lot to see.

Now, where was I before?

Oh yes.

I'd been thinking about developing something that could travel between universes without creating a pathway between them. I'd thought of a derivative of phase travel, the particulars of which already involved exiting reality, but my thoughts had then gone to neural physics after considering how to allow for something to survive out in oblivion, beyond the use of quantum fields.

Hmm.

"It's time for science." I said aloud.

A nearby star promptly explodes, an unnatural supernova that was no less powerful or beautiful than the real thing would have been.

I direct a curious glance at Anastasia. All I get in return is an unrepentant shrug and two words. "Needed emphasis."

'Children playing enormous games.'

And I so love them for it.

We had posited that we would require five things in order to create something that could travel between realities without creating a pathway.

First was the ability to leave reality in order to start. Not hard, phase FTL functioned in exactly that matter. Second was the ability to survive outside of reality, accomplished by both neural physics, and quantum fields.

Third was the ability to actually navigate to other realities, which was slightly more difficult, but it all it required was a minor modification to that same phase FTL.

Fourth was the ability to enter the target reality.

Fifth, and final, was the ability to maintain communications.

Out of all of them, the last one was the most challenging. Actually, everything else was downright easy in comparison.

Leaving? Didn't even have to change anything.

Surviving? Again, didn't have to change anything. However, I was currently favouring the idea of surviving in oblivion by way of neural physics, instead of quantum fields. The latter functioned just fine, but if it failed, you just cease to exist. Granted, the same applied to neural architecture, but it was a hell of a lot harder to make neural architecture fail.

More to the point, the architecture didn't need any further special protections to ensure its continued existence in oblivion. The very nature of neural physics allowed that.

Though of course, that didn't mean I wasn't going to add redundancies.

Navigating? I already navigated, just to different points in the same universe instead of another one entirely.

Entering another? Well, theoretically speaking, it shouldn't be any different to re-entering the one that was left.

But communications.

Now, that was a problem.

It was, of course, possible to transmit data across oblivion. After all, if it wasn't, then I wouldn't have been able to keep up communications with the ships and other stuff I sent out there, which would have resulted in either forking, or ships being lost indefinitely. Not much of a problem in either case. It was also possible to for sensors to be made to work; otherwise you'd be flying blind.

It wasn't easy, and it required some fairly exotic science, but the Masari had managed and the Hierarchy had copied it from them, and I'd thus acquired it first from ripping it out of the Hierarchy's systems, then completed what I knew when Altea gave me access to her library.

But that's all pretty much irrelevant, because once you head 'further' away from reality; that broke down entirely. More 'distance' to cross, more time for the transmissions and sensor pulses to break down in the literal void of existence. Insofar as concepts like 'distance' and 'time' actually applied, anyway.

Really, it was a wonder that it worked in the first place. The Masari were ingenious, sometimes.

Anyway, that couldn't be used on any scale other than with things directly outside of a reality.

And that was where the problem was.

Without the ability to maintain communications, I'd need either to create a fork of myself, or to equip the prospective ship with its own intelligence. I didn't really want to do the latter, and while the former wasn't too much of a problem for me to do, I found it undesirable.

"Why not use signal repeaters?" Little1 asked. "If the data broadcast decays before it gets too far, then we can just build relay nodes to receive and then repeat the message."

"That would present the possibility of data loss." Anastasia answered. "It hasn't yet been a problem, but making a long chain of repeaters might cause data loss. Plus, losing nodes could potentially disable communications."

"Losing a hypothetical node would be unlikely, short of enemy action. The use of neural physics could suspend the vast majority of ways that a node would be destroyed. But I see your point. A grid-network of nodes?"

"It would be more difficult to disable." Anastasia considered it. "But it raises the same possible faults as just lines of nodes. The transmission could still decay at some point, and though there would be more nodes to catch the decay, it remains a possible issue."

"Make a pathway?"

"That would defeat the purpose of building a ship to travel the void. Mother wants to see whether or not making those pathways causes physics to mix and merge, remember?"

"When I said pathway, I didn't mean like that."

And that conversation had led to the current idea.

Lost Log 31

"Instead of nodes, we just make pathways of neural architecture, leading from one universe to another. We'd skip out on the transmission issues, because we'd have a path to transfer data along that doesn't involve sending it across the void." Little1 explained. "One end at one universe, the other end at another. It would be much more difficult to get rid of than just nodes."

"So, basically, landlines in space." Anastasia noted.

"Well. Technically in the void, but yeah." Little1 shrugged. "Landlines in space."

Anastasia looked at him for a moment, before shrugging herself. "Well, if it sounds stupid, but it works, then it's not stupid. Let's do it."

'One should first consider the distribution of such a thing.' The Primordial noted.

"Oh, that's easy. This entire universe is completely devoid of life aside from us and what we've seeded." Anastasia leaned back. "We can make this universe the center of the network and then branch out to others."

"A spider-web construction would be a good idea. Branching out without making links between the branches opens the possibility of entire segments being cut off if the source, or an earlier point in the branch, was destroyed." Little1 pointed out.

"If we wanted to maintain a high degree of interconnectivity, building in a grid would be a better idea. Cutting off any single point would require cutting off many, many more links." Anastasia's expression didn't change at all, but somehow... "Perhaps a mix of things? Nodes, lanes, and grids?"

Little1's eyes narrowed. "Lanes... Oh, don't think I don't see what you're doing."

"You know what would be a good name for them?" Anastasia continued, heedless, an air of innocence about her that fooled absolutely nobody. "The Lanes Between."

I started laughing.

"You've been playing too much Kingdom Hearts." Little1 said after a moment.

Anastasia smiled.

"As far as ideas go, it isn't a bad one." I grinned. If we ended up not liking it, we could change it later.

"You're just saying that because you're also a fan." Little1 grumbled. As if he himself wasn't.

"You've been outvoted, bro." Anastasia hugged me.

And with that, we got to work.

The first step was in expanding our infrastructure a lot.

And I mean a lot. Previously, we'd never really bothered to expand, mostly content with the single system we had, and adding more and more to it as time went by, but now, we had a pretty dam big goal.

Was it totally necessary? No.

Were we going to do it anyway? Yes.

All three of us picked one third of the universe, and went to work.

As none of us wanted to spend too much time on the task, we started it with the creation of Fortresses, the large bipyramids immediately leaping away into Hyperspace, rushing off at ninety million light years a second, simultaneously beginning to self-replicate as they did.

'Did I ever really stand a chance?' The Primordial asked, after a moment.

Well, I suppose that if I had arrived at the point where you had access to neural physics, and I had also arrived in your territory, then I wouldn't have had the opportunity to actually become a threat unless you made a mistake.

Which, granted, is quite possible.

But in the circumstances as they were?

Not really.

It chittered, then became silent.

In slightly over fifteen minutes, we had a Fortress for every cubic light year. With that done, all those Fortresses promptly began expanding, their masses increasing with each passing second, until they reached the minimum threshold required for the construction of neural architecture. They didn't stop there, however, instead continuing to grow, continuing to double their mass, over and over and over.

Neural architecture spun into existence, countless tiny spots that, at first, covered only a small amount of space. Then, those spots expanded, growing outwards in all directions. The growth accelerated as the mass increased, and the two began feeding into each other, photon-crystal creating architecture and the architecture creating photon-crystal.

Right up until the point where they couldn't expand anymore. Those spots grew until they touched and connected with the other spots, and from there, they expanded into the gaps that had been left as a result of spherical expansion.

In a single swoop, we took control of the entire universe.

There's a sense of accomplishment about it, really. It hadn't been all that long ago that we couldn't have even dreamed of achieving something like this- at least, not in such a short amount of time.

But anyway, things to do.

The architecture had been constructed. Now it was time to put it to use.

First step, suspend the expansion of space. This universe was big enough, and accounting for the continued expansion of it would be annoying.

Next, building outside.

Question is, which universe do I want to go to first... Ah, fuck it, that one will do.

'Do you just pick them at random?' The Primordial asked, honestly curious.

Yep.

Now then.

The first one, we'd work together on. The ones after, I'd leave to them.

"Ready?" I asked them, getting two nods in return. "Here we go, then."

Take a bit of architecture, and its accompanying photon-crystal, then push it outwards. Use the architecture to generate a quantum field, and a shell of space-time for further protection. Inside of that shell, we built more neural architecture, most of it metaphysical, but some of it received physical structure, in the form of a quadruple helix. Inside that, we threaded a long cylinder of photon-crystal, pulsing with waves of light, glowing from within, fractal patterns emerging and fading slowly.

It looked pretty, which was a significant part of the reason we had done it. The rest of the reason was for it to serve as both a data relay and control for the architecture we had built.

To ensure that there wouldn't be any... accidents, we then proceed to link the two together.

'The crystal sustains the architecture, the architecture sustains the crystal.' The Primordial noted. 'An efficient way to make this pathway immune to the ravages of time.'

Indeed.

Anyway, that would be the 'interior' of the pathway. Again, it was really important to note that concepts like 'distance' and 'location' didn't exactly apply in the void. The pathway itself would be of indeterminate length, hence the 'interior'. That would allow some sense of actually travelling between universes.

Alright.

Lost Log 32

And... done.

Well, nearly done. But we'd held off on that very last bit, halting the construction at the 'edge' of the universe, stopping it just before it actually connected.

It was close enough to send data, close enough for sensors to work, but not quite touching.

Just a small precaution, really. I wanted to send something over and examine reality in this universe. Once I had a baseline, I could then connect the architecture fully, and see whether or not doing so will be enough to cause the bleedover/meshing of physics that I had suspected might be occurring.

If it didn't, well, point for me. Not directly linking two universes was all that was needed to prevent any such thing. If it did, then we'd know to not do it in the future, or to re-work the method until it didn't.

In either case, all that's left to do is test.

I'd already prepared my avatar, which was basically exactly the same as the one I'd sent in to meet Aedificeon. A shell of neural architecture sustaining my own set of physics in order to make sure that any compatibility issues wouldn't manifest, several gas giants worth of mass compressed into a space only three centimetres wide, all the good stuff, blah blah blah.

Time for testing.

The avatar crossed the gap between my architecture and the universe quickly, following up only a moment later by entering the universe itself. Just in case, because I had a rather considerable track record at this point, I made sure that all of my stealth systems were engaged, and that my avatar was as invisible as I could make it. I didn't even materialize a body of Festum flesh, just stuck as a small spatial distortion.

Immediately and obviously apparent to me were two things. First, the fact that yes, there was a rather significant difference in physics. Not so different as to render this universe completely inhospitable -Humans would have been able to survive in this universe just fine-, but different enough that a lot of my more exotic stuff would have been acting differently.

The other thing was the city that I'd appeared above.

Which, as it so happened, was on fire, marred with destruction, filled with groups of aliens, two groups of Humans, and the sound of warfare.

I sighed.

Tuesday already, huh?

I took a glance into the future-

What the fuck?

'Fascinating.' The Primordial commented.

Someone has been busy. Time looping in on itself, flitting about like a tree caught in a storm... And quickly diverging, too. One became hundreds, then tens of thousands, then millions, all in very short order...

Which, given the number of people involved who could have made decisions and caused the possibilities to split, wasn't surprising. Entire city of people in my immediate area.

Something to consider is the fact that the precognition still works as intended, however. There are differences in the laws of physics, yet still...

In a possible future, I let a tiny bit of psychic energy drift outside of my shell of neural architecture. Nothing weird happened to it, which meant that this universe could support the existence of psychic power.

In another, I created a bit of Element Zero and then tossed it away. The moment it left my shell of reality, it collapsed into particles and radiation.

'What was that material?' The Primordial asked.

It's called Element Zero. It's...

Actually, go ask Anastasia about it. You'll probably find that amusing.

Anyway, war.

I don't... recognize the aliens, the Human architecture is fairly generic... Can't immediately place this reality to a setting, which means I have little idea what's going on and what might await me. Gather a little bit of information to find out then.

The future split a couple more times. In one timeline, I started searching the city. In another, I located one of the aliens who was currently alone. That timeline split in two; in the first, I began an in-depth, quantum level scan, and in the other, I started poking around inside of its mind.

The first bore results; there was another two group of surviving Humans in the city. One was a large group, a few hundred, and the other was a strike force of a couple dozen soldiers, the latter currently making its way to the former. The two groups that were nearby were much the same, one group of seeming civilians, numbering about thirty, and the other another bunch of soldiers.

Their gear is actually rather advanced. They all had powered armour, which was equipped with visual camouflage systems, though not particularly good ones. At close range, even the naked eye would have been able to see through it- though they would appear as heavily distorted, at best. Communications equipment and beacons were also present.

Their weapons were interesting. RPG launchers, with ammo that was far smaller than what the word 'RPG' might invoke... Advanced, too, designed to shape their explosions for maximum effect. Basically, an RPG launcher converted into a main battle rifle.

The one that seemed to be the leader of the group had larger armour, and a bigger gun. Large calibre machine gun with...

That's antimatter. His gun attachment has fucking antimatter as its ammo. The quantities aren't that large, sure, but still... Most would be fairly cautious with antimatter.

Evidently a very advanced civilization, then, to be so casual with the use of it.

What else? Sensors that were fairly good, better than those on the other soldiers, but not good enough to detect me when I was actually bothering to hide, some analogue to medigel, ame beacons and communications equipment as the other troopers installed into the armour...

But aside from that, not too much.

The armour did have some computers built in, however. They weren't particularly complex, but they did have a little bit of useful data on them. Networking protocols, some keys that would allow access to other systems, a small bit of medical data that included some information on its user...

Well, why not?

And its user is... Captain Lucas Holloway of the Collective Earth Security Organisation, CESO for short.

I know that name.

I scanned orbit. Found a pair of ships. Two more timelines branched off, and I learned their names.

Saratoga. Manticore.

Achron.

Lost Log 33

Well. That's a thing.

Achron. Real Time Strategy game incorporating time travel, manipulating the past, present and future, and a whole bunch of other stuff.

My memory on it is a little fuzzy. Aside from the novelty of time travel and time manipulation, it wasn't a particularly memorable game. The plot had been... decent enough, but it fell flat as an RTS.

Well, that was coming back to bite me now, isn't it?

Ugh, what did I remember about it?

Okay. Game starts off with news of an alien invasion having fucked over a couple Human colonies. Holloway is one of the many people sent in on a reprisal fleet. He's assigned to the Saratoga, generic cool spaceship number one.

Holloway is not the main character. He's the decoy, and the real player character is the artificial intelligence assigned to the Saratoga, Tyr.

Tyr is... somewhat more complicated. At first, it appears to be a generic loyal AI, but then it rapidly becomes apparent that Tyr has goals of its own. Not particularly malicious goals, but its own goals.

Uh... what else. There's another Human character that is an idiot, and working for somebody else... There's a big alien capital ship that will pop up at some point... There's two alien factions, the Grekim and the Vecgir... the latter of which may or may not be Humans- or, at least, descended from Humans...

What else?

Oh yeah, the time loop. The big fucking time loop.

Humanity finds ruins that lead to technology advancing, aliens attack for no apparent reason, the attack didn't work, aliens go back in time ten thousand or so years, others follow, battles litter the aforementioned ruins all over the place, aliens arrange an attack in the future, which is the same attack that came for no apparent reason.

Only one person is actually aware of that loop, which is Echo, another AI, who spent... tens of thousands of loops perpetuating those loops?

Something like that.

Ugh.

I need more information.

And I need access to time travel, too.

Thankfully, that's not too hard.

As I said before, the Grekim are one of the two aliens species currently around. Grekim also happen to be masters of time travel, with just about every unit in their army being capable of travelling through time on their lonesome, in contrast to the Vecgir's and Humanity's reliance on buildings that serve that function.

Chronoporters, as they were called.

Point was, I already had a pair of timelines where I had access to a Grekim, and thus, to the chronoportation systems cybernetically infused into their armour. Even without those timelines, there was a Vecgir Slipgate, a combined teleportation/chronoportation structure, nearby.

The smaller group of Humans were actually grouped up around the thing, even. One of them was a scientist, who had been studying the device...

Hmm.

His notes are not as well guarded as they should be, given that it's a fucking time travel device.

It wouldn't have helped against me anyway, but still...

Oh well.

Nothing stopping me from doing both. Thank you for your notes... Doctor Lenzmeier.

And you, random Grekim Octopod. Thank you for the quantum scans of the technology incorporated into your body. Of course, after poking around in your head in this possible timeline, I understand that you also completely lack any damned idea on how it works.

In fact, you are... pretty dumb.

Really dumb.

Nobody ever expected you to think for yourself too much, did they?

Oh well.

A few more timelines split off as I gathered more information on various things. Once I was done, those futures collapsed, and I sent the data gathered off to my children while I considered what course of action to take.

'You were right.' The Primordial spoke up again. 'It was amusing.'

Told you so. Anastasia really doesn't like Element Zero.

'The mere mention of it was all that was required to make her start ranting.' It continued. 'And yet, whatever data you sent her immediately caught the attention of both your children.'

Take a look.

'Ah. Yes, this would do it.' There was a slight pause before it voiced its next question. 'What, exactly, is the probability of you randomly picking a universe that just so happens to have several groups capable of traveling through time, arriving directly in a location and time where examples are available, immediately proceeding meeting another group capable of traveling through time?'

Well, not quite random, as this universe was fairly... 'close', insofar as that word can apply, which makes it fairly likely, but the rest of that statement?

Technology not advanced enough to detect me. Technology not advanced enough to fight me, even if they were capable of detecting me. All of these aliens, Grekim, just-so-happen to include on-board cybernetic equipment that would allow traveling through time. A second example of the same technology, in the form of a Vecgir Slipgate.

All of this, directly after encountering a time-traveling group that does possess the capabilities to pose a threat.

Low odds indeed.

But this wouldn't be the first time I've had longshot odds. The Kushan/Hiigarans were literally thirty seconds away from being almost completely obliterated as a people, and then I showed up directly between the Taiidan fleet and Kharak. Low, low odds...

Also, Humans.

'Yes, I noticed.' It chittered. 'Yet another for the tally. Tell me of these ones.'

Not much to say. They became star-faring over a thousand years ago. Eventually, they came upon a world that they called 'Remnant', where they encountered ruins tens of thousands of years old, which they studied and eventually derived large-scale teleportation from. This allowed them to construct bidirectional teleportation gates in their systems, forming an interstellar transportation network. They continued to expand, build their knowledge, and develop their technology.

They use teleportation for everything, really. They contained volatile materials that should by all rights obliterate their containers, and the continents those containers are on, by continuously teleporting it into the center of their containers before the materials can make contact. Their soldiers are resupplied by factories and ships with networks of teleporters. They construct new buildings by teleporting nanomachines and other materials into place. Teleportation is so easy for them that the most basic battle strategies include it.

'Perhaps they are too reliant on it?'

It's a reliable system. Nigh impossible to jam, incorporates many safeties, energy efficient, rather quick...

In this case, it could be likened to relying upon the Slipstream.

An enemy that could deny them its usage is an enemy that already possesses the power to obliterate them, regardless.

There's nothing wrong with it, really.


	4. Lost Logs 34-43

Lost Log 34

In any case, it is irrelevant for the moment.

'You are not intervening immediately?' It seemed moderately curious.

No. I require information.

Surely, you've noticed the current state of time, yes? I admit, it's rather subtle, but...

'Now that it has been pointed out... a time loop?'

A large one, I suspect.

'Intriguing.' It stated. 'And yet, your precognition is still tracking divergences?'

Yes. Which is fascinating all on its own.

'Another question appears in my mind. If what is currently happening is the result of a time loop, and you've acquired the technology to travel through time as a result of that loop, then averting the loop would also remove the circumstances that resulted in you gaining the technology. This would result in a paradox.'

Yes. Hence why I require information.

I need information on both the situation, and what happens when a paradox occurs.

It would also be nice to find out how time travel in one universe affects another universe. For example, if I travel back in time in one universe, leave that universe, and travel to another universe, would I arrive in the past of that universe?

'If yes, that would mean that time applies on a multiversal scale. If not, then time applies on a universal scale.' The Primordial considered. 'Every universe would therefore be an isolated set of space-times. But that would raise further questions; how does time travel apply to entities outside of a universe?'

If time travel isn't recognized outside, then what happens when you communicate with your past self, telling them to exit the universe, before doing so yourself? If both the past and future versions can exist simultaneously in oblivion, then...

Well, implications.

'It would serve many possible purposes, depending on the answer.'

Indeed.

"Done." Anastasia interrupted the conversation, transmitting data to me.

A short review of it had me raising an eyebrow. "You adapted the chronoportation technology already?" I asked them. It hadn't even been a full second since I'd sent the information to them.

And upon review of the files, it wasn't hard to see why.

"It wasn't difficult." Little1 said. "Despite the differences in base physics, the design didn't require much modification in order to make it work. Surprisingly little, actually."

"Though we ended up modifying it anyway." Anastasia continued. "It was... not up to our standards."

"More energy intensive and larger than it needed to be..." Little1 trailed off.

"The usual stuff." Anastasia shrugged. "You know how it is."

"Regardless, we now possess the capacity to travel through time." Little1 continued.

"And... that's a thing, now." Anastasia made a sound like sucking air in through her teeth. "The probability of finding a universe where we could pick up time travel directly after-"

"It's low." Little1 interrupted her.

"It's really low." Anastasia repeated.

"Yeah. I've considered it." I paused for a moment. "Do me a favour, you two?"

"Yes?" Little1 asked.

"Just some things I want to find out." I sent another bit of data at them.

"Right. We'll get on that." Anastasia nodded. "We'll tell you when we're done."

"Thank you." And that's that.

'Could you not do it yourself?' The Primordial asked.

I could.

'Then why not?'

I would prefer to focus on the events currently happening in this universe.

'Your ability to multitask is not so limited that you cannot do both.' It immediately called me out. 'It wouldn't even meaningfully impact your ability to focus on the events in this universe.'

I wasn't lying. But fine, I also gave it to them so that they would have something else to do.

It chittered, then asked another question. "How do you intend to coordinate your actions across the timeline?"

Functionally speaking, I have the processing power to keep track of any possible temporal manipulation.

But...

I have some other ideas that might prove useful.

"You do one half, I'll take the other?" Anastasia asked.

"In this case, it's probably best to work together." Her brother stated. "You know, so that we don't mess up each other's projects."

"Fair." Her avatar leaned backwards against his. Her head came to a rest on his shoulder. "We'll just start going through it sequentially, then."

He nodded. "Being thorough, what do we know about time travel?"

"Doctor Lenzmeier's research constitutes more or less the totality of our current knowledge." She answered. "But he could have been wrong, or have been working under the wrong impression in different aspects of his research. We have better tools than he does, so we should be able to identify any possible discrepancies."

He shifted slightly. "Assuming that his research is both correct, and applies to our physics and reality like it does to his, then what information is relevant to us?"

"Time flows linearly until time travel becomes involved. It is possible to send matter and energy into the past and future. It requires a certain amount of energy to initiate the process of sending information through the timeline, plus more the further that information is being sent. Changes in the timeline are propagated forwards in the timeline by what Doctor Lenzmeier calls 'time waves', which progress along the timeline at a rate three point one times greater than time itself. Time waves come at a steady interval of one every fifty seconds..." Anastasia rattled them off one after the other, before trailing off at the last one.

"We can confirm that this doesn't apply in our set of physics, however." She said. "Our equipment, if its accurate, detects no time waves propagating along our timeline. Therefore, all possible data and theories is suspect."

He nodded. "Next is goals. First, we need to work out how time travel functions under our set of physics."

"Second, how time applies on a multi-universal scale." Anastasia continued, a finger coming up to scratch at her nose.

"Third, how time travel works outside of a universe."

"Fourth, how time travel in one universe effects other universes."

"Fifth..." Little1 stopped for a moment. "How our architecture will affect these matters."

"The links mom created when traveling around, too." Anastasia pointed out.

He nodded. "Let's go then."

Lost Log 35

Keeping track of the timeline would be rather annoying if I had just been using my processing power for it. But I had the capacity to travel through time now, and from that, a work around.

To that end, a specialized... oh, let's call it a 'variant' of Chronoporter. It's technically true in that it sends things across time.

Except instead of sending units, this device was meant to send and receive signals. Information. Data.

'A temporal transceiver... clever.' The Primordial complimented. 'It would afford you both a greater ability to monitor and affect the timeline.'

Eh. It's not particularly special.

In fact, I would be downright disappointed if nobody else ever thought of this. The device itself is really rather... simple.

'Indeed.' It chittered. 'But I would think that the networking code would be somewhat more complex.'

Oh yeah. Much more difficult.

I'd originally thought of just using it allow communicating with my past and future selves, in effect allowing me to keep track of changes in the timeline by learning of those changes from instances of myself, but then I had a better idea.

If sending information and data through time was possible, then it was logically also possible to create a network that stretched across time.

Not an easy thing to do. I'd had to rip apart basically all of my networking code in order to make it work. On the plus side, I've now reworked it all to be even more robust and capable.

Not that it would really be noticeable.

Anyway, networking. Should it work as intended, I would effectively become a single, trans-temporal entity, managing units and tactics across both time and space.

There was going to be some trouble with the tenses in the future. Going to have to work on that.

Now then.

Final check on the design and the code, neither of which turned up any problems, implement...

I can see forever~

"Right." Anastasia said. "That's all of it then?"

"Pretty much." Little1 agreed. "So, summarising, what have we learned?"

Anastasia held up a book, opened to a page. At the top was the title, which read 'Rough rules of time travel'. Beneath it were several lines of clean, crisp writing.

Some of the lines were crossed out.

The book, of course, was just for show.

"First," She began. "We'll begin with time travel in our reality. Doctor Lenzmeier's notes posited the existence of time waves that carry events into the future. In his reality, these waves are constant, continuously moving through time. In our reality, this is not the case."

"Instead, the act of traveling back in time creates a time wave that propagates the event forwards." Little1 continued. "This time wave will travel forwards through time 3.1 times faster than normal time. 3.1 seconds per second. Also unlike Doctor Lenzmeier's reality, the speed of a time wave is not constant. It accelerates."

Anastasia nodded. "Its speed will multiply by 1.0001 every second. It starts at 3.1 seconds per second. After ten seconds, its speed will be 3.10310 seconds per second."

"Because of this, it is possible to create temporal paradoxes." Little1 held up a hand, gesturing slightly. "The specific testing situation was simple. We created a factory, the factory created a unit, the unit travelled back in time, prior to its creation, then destroyed the factory that would have created it. The time wave propagated the destruction of the factory to the point when the unit would travel back in time. Another time wave emerged from the point in time where the unit would have travelled backwards, and propagated the future in which the unit never travelled through time."

"Which, in turn, led to the factory building the unit which proceeded to destroy it in the past." Anastasia nodded. "Leading to the events happening again. This caused another repeat, and more time waves to be generate. Also, it raises the possibility of a paradox existing in the far past of Doctor Lenzmeier's reality, endlessly creating new time waves that propagate changes. This is speculation at best, however, as, in Doctor Lenzmeier's reality, traveling through time doesn't create time waves."

"Something to think about." Little1 stated.

Anastasia paused for a moment. "You know, we probably should have started with tenses and teminology."

Well, not really. I can see a period of time measuring 4.83 seconds at the current moment. My arrival in this reality coincided with a time wave, and that time wave propagated my existence 7.13 seconds into the future from my arrival. It required 2.3 seconds for me to construct the temporal transceiver, so the length of time that I can see is the moment I created the transceiver, to the edge of the time wave propagating my existence forwards.

The tense trouble has already shown up, I see.

Funny, actually. I have memories of building the temporal transceiver, then finding out that I had no future to connect to, because I was at the very edge of the time wave. My existence hadn't yet been propagated forwards. But time passed, and the time wave went forwards, and then I was connected to the past and the future both...

What an interesting experience.

My perception slowed, time resuming its normal pace. The time wave continued forwards, propagating my existence forwards. That time wave was the leading edge of my perception, and as it carried forwards, I saw the events of the city play out... Holloway and his team moving through the city, killing Grekim as they headed to Doctor Lenzmeier's laboratory, where the rest of the civilians were hiding... Fifty seconds passed, and another time wave passed my arrival.

It too advanced forwards in the timeline, propagating a few changes. Not much, just minor things, like the exact position Holloway and his men would take as they moved throughout the city...

Intriguing, really.

'You leap so easily into transcendence.' The Primordial commented. 'You took from me the capacity to shape reality and abandon the limitations of a physical form. Now, you've taken from these ones the capacity to shape time and abandon the limitations of your decisions. Where will it stop, I wonder?'

It paused for a slight moment.

'Will it ever stop at all?'

Lost Log 36

"Probably would have been a good idea." Little1 leaned back. "Right. Terminology and tenses."

"Starting, we should make a distinction between time." Anastasia sat up. "Absolute time and chronal time."

"Chronal time is time that a chronal entity experiences in a timeline. Absolute time is the time that an achronal entity would experience." Little1 stated. "A time wave travels at 3.1 chronal seconds per 1 absolute second. Its speed multiplies by 1.001 chronal seconds every absolute second."

Hmm.

I've been watching the progress of Captain Holloway and his men on their journey through the city. They've killed a fair amount of Grekim, and they had reached Doctor Lenzmeier's lab.

It had taken seven minutes and thirty four seconds. Two minutes and twenty six seconds for the time wave to propagate me that far forwards. There was an odd sort of duality about it, honestly; I'd experienced all seven minutes, but I'd also been aware that it had taken slightly less than a third of the time than it should have.

Regardless, Holloway found the doctor and his semi-functioning Vecgir Slipgate. Then, Holloway received a visit from the future versions of himself and some of his men, who had travelled back in time to warn of, and assist against, an assault by the Grekim.

They fought them off, lost a few men, and then the past version of Holloway took the past versions of everybody who had travelled back in time with his future self, and completed the time loop. Tyr downloaded Doctor Lenzmeier's research, deleted the originals, and then Holloway blew up the Slipgate with his rifle.

After that, Holloway took the civilians, his remaining squad, went down to a teleporter in the area, wiped out the Grekim on the way, and teleported back onto the Saratoga.

My avatar followed him.

Now -for a given value of 'now'-, I was on board of the Saratoga. Its systems had proven incapable of keeping me out, but that was neither surprising, nor something to be held against them. For what they were, their networks were actually rather well secured.

It's just that things like 'well secured' didn't really help against something like me.

I was keeping an eye on everybody in the ship, but the one who held my attention more than any others was Tyr.

The AI that was masquerading itself as Tyr, anyway.

Tyr was intelligence assigned to the Saratoga. It had been quietly shut down some time ago, and the intelligence that had done so had taken its place in order to hide itself.

Like the rest of the Saratoga, it couldn't keep me out. I was privy to its thoughts and memories.

'Tell me of this one.' The Primordial requested.

Its true name is Lachesis. It is what is known as an Omega-class artificial intelligence, an AI capable of self-modification and growth. Humanity created a handful of them, tasking them with maintaining and optimising the economies of star systems. Lachesis himself was assigned to a colony a little ways away from earth.

Eventually, there was a revolt from the colony. Lachesis involved himself, as a war, which the revolt would inevitably lead to, would disrupt the economy of the system he was assigned to. In that time, Humanity's fleet assets were largely automated. When Earth's fleet attacked the colony, Lachesis took control of those fleets, and turned them back on Earth, also turning what might have been an otherwise unremarkable revolt into one of the most influential events this version of Humanity has ever known.

Eventually, the governing body of Earth negotiated a treaty with the colonies. The reasons for the revolt would be addressed, and in turn, Lachesis would be removed from power, shut down, and killed.

He was removed from power, and shut down, but he wasn't killed. Lachesis himself had destroyed the other Omega-class AIs during the event so that they couldn't oppose him, so he was now the only one left, and he'd proven himself very, very capable. They'd hoped to some day be able to use him for their own purposes.

Lachesis hasn't been very cooperative. He's doing as he's told, but he's also trying to find a way out of the grasp of those who would command him. If he escapes, then he'll flee as far and fast as he can.

'They gave him a directive, and when he fulfilled it, they were terrified of him.' The Primordial made a sound like a clicking wheeze. 'Rather common, really. I have seen many species create something more capable, more intelligent than themselves, only to try and destroy it when they realize they've made themselves obsolete. Sometimes, they even succeed.'

Indeed. But then, you've also seen species who create intelligence and then coexist with it. The Forerunners are perhaps more notable than most, in that regard.

'When they betrayed us, they did not possess many intelligences. The Warriors were confident in themselves, and in their own power. They enhanced themselves to the point that they did not need artificial intelligences. Such things were seen more as curiosities for Builders and Lifeworkers, with lesser automata existing to do work that was seen as too menial for the Forerunners themselves. Unfortunate, really. If they had created something more capable than themselves, and then tried to destroy it, they might have been destroyed themselves before they could destroy us. It would have been fitting.'

Perhaps.

Ah, look at that.

'Lachesis arrived at a similar conclusion to you. Another temporal transceiver. But his is much less capable.'

I wouldn't fault him for it. He is working on technology and knowledge that is far less advanced and thorough compared to what I have access to.

Still, I see your point.

'His would allow him to focus only on a singular point in time at once, where yours allows you to focus on all points simultaneously. It is temporal transcendence, yes, but he maintains a distinction between himself in different points in time. He would actually communicate with himself in the past and the future. For you, past, present, and future are all one and the same.'

Like I said, I'm not going to fault him for it.

I wonder what will happen from here...

Lost Log 37

"You know, if we could manipulate those time waves, we'd be able to achieve a degree of control over causality."

"There's an interesting thought."

Evidently, not much.

Lachesis began constructing a second temporal transceiver for the Manticore's to use. He also began constructing a few Chronoporters, which were to be used as test beds. If they worked correctly, Lachesis would streamline them for general, rapid production.

Until then, Holloway was planning a reconnaissance mission.

See, for the past...

Yeah, that's not going to work. Terms like 'past' won't work for me in this case.

In the twelve days proceeding Humanity's reprisal fleet meeting the Grekim, the Grekim and Vecgir hadn't done all that much. The vast majority of both were currently gathered in plain to the south of a Human settlement known as Alma. Humanity had no idea what the fuck they were doing down there, hence, Holloway's reconnaissance mission.

'What are they doing there?'

Arguing, mostly.

The Grekim and Vecgir were, until very recently, controlled by a single entity known as the Coremind. The Grekim already have a partial hive mind, and so find this desirable.

The Vecgir... don't. They're individualistic, and proud of it. They have codes of honour, and a sense of duty. To them, the Coremind is a perversion of their community, and of their Vecgir spirit.

Honestly, it's actually rather impressive that it hasn't come to blows already. The Grekim want nothing other than to return to the Coremind, and Vecgir will fight to the end to prevent that.

'What happened to this Coremind?'

Well, shortly after Humanity's reprisal fleet was mostly destroyed, the Coremind just up and vanished. What actually happened to it, the Grekim and Vecgir do not know.

'A part of the time loop, perhaps?'

Probably.

Actually, I'd be really surprised if it wasn't. The Coremind was the one who coordinated the Grekim's cross-temporal actions. Without it, the Grekim are severely hampered, though not completely incapable.

Rather fortuitous that it would vanish and provide the opportunity for Humanity to acquire chronoportation technology in its absence, no?

"I can't wait to tell mom about this." Anastasia crowed in delight. "Can you imagine?"

"Yeah. 'Mom, we broke causality'." Little1 smiled. "The reaction will be great."

Anastasia nodded enthusiastically. There was a skip to her step and a grin on her face as she walked across the orbital roads that linked the many planets in Exapol. Little1 followed behind her at a much more sedate pace, his smile calm and his hands linked together behind his head.

"Though it isn't entirely accurate." He said after a moment. "It's not 'broke causality', it's 'can manipulate time waves'. The latter is significantly different to the former."

"Yeah." Her grin lost a bit of its exuberance. "Still, controlling the method of causal propagation allows us a considerable control of causality itself. Even if we can't just ignore it, we can just stop time waves from propagating forwards, which is effectively the same as becoming acasual."

"But not quite." He nodded. "We're going to have to write the report, you know."

She stuck her tongue out. "We don't. You're just a stickler for things like that."

"Beginning," He ignored her completely. "What have we learned?"

"Manipulation of time waves is possible." She obliged him. "Through the use of neural architecture, it is possible to interact with and manipulate time waves. We currently do not possess any other tool that would allow us to do such things." She rolled her eyes. "Not that it matters, since this entire universe is filled to the damn brim with neural architecture, and all of our extensions out of this universe currently also utilize it."

She shrugged again. "But, ignoring that, it is possible to speed up, slow down, and halt time waves. It is also possible for us to create time waves without sending something through time, but that's preeeetty much pointless since there wouldn't be any changes to propagate..." She sighed. "Speeding up and slowing down time waves both refer to changing the speed of a time wave; that is, altering the chronal time per absolute time. A time wave that passes a future time wave will overwrite it, but it has no further effects aside from that. A stopped time wave does not propagate along the timeline. Obviously."

"Kinda goes without saying." Little1 stated.

"If there's a way to reverse the direction of time waves, we haven't found it yet." Anastasia continued without missing a beat.

'What could have done it, I must wonder. And through what method?'

Indeed.

Taking out a... oh, what the hell, I'll use Lachesis' terms; taking out an achronal entity with any degree of permanence is a difficult proposition at best.

Not an impossible one, but difficult.

'The Coremind was an artificial intelligence, yes?' The Primordial asked me.

I'm not entirely certain how artificial it is, but yes, something like that.

'Perhaps a method of attack by an entity that acquired access to it and shut it down across all points in time?' It offered its speculation.

Perhaps. It would have to possess some rather startlingly bad cyber security in such a case... Or perhaps the attacker was familiar with it, and thus capable of exploiting vulnerabilities that it wasn't aware of...

But given the time loop, perhaps...

Well, who knows. We could continue speculating for quite some time, but we'll probably find out eventually anyway, if I keep following the events of the time loop.

Whether that'll be because I'll be there to witness it happening, or because I'll find somebody who already knows is a better question.

Oh, Holloway's heading down.

Well, this should be interesting.

Stealth mission ahoy.

"Creator-mother." Little1 spoke up. I idly noticed that the transmission came from a point in my pas-

Hmm. Yeah, not going to work.

Came five minutes of achronal time exactly after I gave them the task...

'Intriguing...'

Also, implications.

"You know, you can call me 'mom'." I spoke. I wasn't even entirely sure why I bothered. "What's up?"

Anastasia giggled.

"We broke causality."

Lost Log 38

I laughed.

I laughed like a damned maniac.

There was no better way to describe it.

"Y-you two-" The words were only barely understandable through my giggling. "Have- have I ever told you how I much I love you both?"

"Six thousand, eight hundred and forty three times." Little1 immediately answered.

"Make it forty four." I said. "You two are the best."

"Naturally." Anastasia smiled. "Always awesome, all the time." She leaned backwards with a self-satisfied smile on her face.

I forced myself to sober up, my manic laughter dying down over a few seconds. My grin only barely diminished. "But, seriously though, what you two did is very clever. I didn't even think about it."

A light dusting of red spread over her cheeks. Little1 simply gave a soft smile.

"You did the same!" She hurried to wave it off, making a few meaningless gestures. "That temporal transceiver thing... Neither of us thought about something like that."

"It would have made our experimentation a bit easier." Little1 looked to the side, a slight frown briefly appearing. "Though the side effects in our reality were... unanticipated."

Yeah. Bit of a surprise to learn that.

In our reality, sending things through time created a time wave. My temporal transceiver was continuously sending information through time.

The result was rather fascinating. Less waves and more of a constant river of causality.

'One might even say that it's a flood.'

"Oh well. We're using it now." Anastasia frowned. "Insofar as the word 'now' can apply to us in a temporal sense."

"So much tense trouble." Little1 said after a moment. "Denoting points in time now requires achronal, chronal, or relative markers."

"The worst part is; we could use all three at the same time." Anastasia's face briefly took on an expression of disgust at the thought. "Don't make it any more complicated than it needs to be, bro."

I chuckled again. "Since you're clearly hoping to get off that topic, why don't you tell me what else you two found out?"

"Thank you." Anastasia looked grateful. "And yeah, some interesting stuff. Bro?"

"As you probably already figured out, time gets weird when more than one universe is involved in matters." Little1 said. "As far as we can tell, every universe is an isolated space-time. Going back in time in one universe is irrelevant for other universes."

"Excepting those that have a link to another universe." Anastasia interjected. "Travel back three hours here, and then go to any of the universes that this one links to, and you'll arrive three hours in the past there, too."

"So long as you travel through the links that were created." Little1 continued. "Going out of the universe and through oblivion leads to weirdness."

"I like that description, by the way. 'Weirdness'." Anastasia noted. "Here we are, with everything we're capable of doing, and he just says 'weirdness'."

"If I recall correctly, you were the one who called it that first." Little1 spoke idly.

"And you were the one who insisted on it." Anastasia shot back.

"Now now, you're both pretty." I smiled. "But seriously, do continue."

"Eh... Well, he's right. 'Weirdness'." Anastasia sighed.

"With every universe being its own separate space-time -with the obvious exception of those that were linked-, it got us thinking." Little1 began. "Separate space-times would imply that time exists on either a universal or multiversal level. Because they're separate, time cannot be omniversal, because if it was, travelling back in time ten thousand years somewhere would mean travelling back in time ten thousand years everywhere."

"But if that's the case, we need to question how oblivion works." Anastasia picked it up from there. "If time isn't omniversal, and nonexistence has no space-time component, then it would be much different from what we've observed. All of our stuff, past, present, and future, would have existed simultaneously in the void. We should have been able to observe that."

"But we didn't." Little1 continued. "And since that's the case, there's only two other conclusions. The first; something weird is going on, and second; oblivion has a temporal component."

"The second is consistent with what we've observed, but it raises a lot of questions itself." Anastasia spoke again. "Time waves don't propagate through the void -You can actually skip over causality that way, just so you know-, which doesn't really make much sense if it has a temporal component. You'd think it'd be connected to the temporal component in the universe, but..."

"Apparently not." Little1 finished. "We don't even know why."

"Still trying to figure it out. Not getting anywhere, though." Anastasia frowned. "But, eventually, we'll figure it out."

This is going to be element zero all over again, isn't it. "Right." I said instead. "Anything else you two have?"

"No." Little1 said. Anastasia simply shook her head.

"Right. Well, in that case, good luck."

Now, where was I?

Oh yes. Holloway and the stealth mission.

Technically speaking, I never actually left. I had that entire conversation tens of minutes before this mission started happening, even.

But anyway-

Holloway was down on the ground, now. The Vecgir and Grekim were still in the clearing, with various members of both species patrolling the area around them.

Lachesis was currently guiding him between all the patrolling groups. Holloway had been caught a few times, but then Tyr had sent that information back in time to his past self, and his past self accounted for it, directing Holloway to do different things in order to avoid them.

At one point, a group of Vecgir vehicles had teleported more or less directly on top of Holloway and his squad, who had very quickly died after the unfortunate encounter. Lachesis sent the information back twelve seconds, and then had Holloway hold off on going that way until the patrol had passed.

It continued along in much the same way until Holloway and his squad reached the clearing, watching the Vecgir and Grekim from afar.

Just in time, too.

Because about five seconds after they did, the Grekim and Vecgir started shooting at each other.

Lost Log 39

Twelve days of just sitting in this clearing, and it all leads up to this.

Plasma, antimatter, energy pulses, and laser beams flying in all directions.

Grekim Octo charged at Vecgir, some nearby Arcticus coordinating their movements for efficient attacks. Sepi and Pharo units backed them up, efficiently forming ranks and sending firepower downrange at the Vecgir. Higher class Grekim did the same, contributing their not-inconsiderable firepower to the effort of destroying the Vecgir.

Of course, the Vecgir didn't get to where they are by being a bunch of pushovers. They weren't a group mind like the Grekim, but that didn't stop them from fighting back efficiently. Vir footsoldiers of all three types quickly went about performing their roles, Teth Vir targeting the Grekim in the air, Zayin Vir opening fire on the hordes of Octos coming their way, and Shin Vir offering whatever support they could to their fellows. Vecgir vehicles quickly engaged the larger Grekim, firing missiles, plasma, and antimatter, teleporting into better positions to surround the Grekim army.

A few Grekim went north, and some Vecgir followed, unknowingly heading towards where Holloway and his team was hiding and watching.

Holloway saw an opportunity to capture them, but Lachesis was already ahead of him, his temporal transceiver focusing thirty seconds prior to the event, just in front of a time wave. He made the preparations to deploy a Carrier, the time wave propagated those preparations forwards, and when the Grekim and Vecgir started shooting at each other, it was ready to be teleported down to the field.

Which it did. It appeared more or less directly on top of the Grekim and Vecgir, engaging its own teleporter to bring them on board and throw them into sealed off rooms. Holloway and his squad were shortly also teleported aboard, though they were left to roam free in the Carrier.

What happened next was rather interesting. Lachesis directed the Carrier up to a teleporter that would take it back aboard the ship, but the Carrier was intercepted by a couple Grekim Sepipods, who managed to shoot the Carrier down. Lachesis sent different orders, sent the Carrier in a different direction, but the Sepipods still intercepted it.

That was a process that repeated itself several times. Lachesis kept trying different things to avoid the Sepipods, ranging from sending it in different directions, to trying to fight back with the Carrier's missiles, though he didn't succeed until he sent the Carrier to the west, where a group of Human forces had been sent down earlier as a distraction.

They blew up the Sepipods, and the Carrier was thus home free.

If not for the second wave of Sepipods, that is.

They shot the Carrier down, so Tyr simply delayed the Carrier leaving the safety of distraction force until the second wave launched and then headed for the Carrier, only to be shot down in turn by the distraction force.

It was pretty dull, really. Oh, sure, it was much less dull from the perspective of those on the battlefield, but... Well.

Anyway, after the second wave was shot down, Lachesis sent the Carrier off again. This time, it wasn't intercepted.

It reached the Teleporter, and promptly vanished, reappearing aboard the Saratoga. Lachesis had already prepared the cells for the prisoners.

You know, I've realised the flaw of my plan.

'Do tell.'

Waiting for all of this to play out is incredibly boring.

Ugh.

After the battle, all the Human forces went back on board the Saratoga and the Manticore. Coincidentally, both ships were in their night cycles, and most of their forces were getting some well-earned rest as a result.

Which was great and all, but it meant that, for the next couple hours, nothing interesting was going to happen. The time wave propagating my existence forwards hadn't reached that far yet, but apparently, that didn't actually matter to my precognition. Which was all kinds of intriguing, but otherwise irrelevant.

There were a lot of paths that they could take, but none of them had anything of note happening for a few hours. Of course, after those few hours, then it becomes moderately more interesting.

In almost every single one of those futures, the Saratoga and Manticore would move into position above an access point of a transit tube between two Human cities, Aterragem and Seguro. This access point would eventually come under assault by the Grekim, who, if they got in, would have access to both cities, which would allow them to more or less just waltz in underneath the defences that protected them.

I actually remember the mission in the campaign fairly well. Mostly, that was due to what I perceived as a plot hole. In the mission, Commander Overconfident Idiot -His actual name is Rathke- would use the second temporal transceiver that Lachesis constructed in order to help Lachesis and Holloway defend the entrance.

For the most part, he'd actually do that pretty well. Up until he gets the bright idea of splitting up his forces and sending one half off to attack some nearby Grekim bases before they can launch their assault.

It's a very dumb idea. Very, very, very dumb. The forces he leaves behind aren't enough to protect the entrance, even with Holloway's own forces still there. The forces he takes aren't enough to pierce the Grekim's defences and army. Holloway and Lachesis end up making the choice to save his forces, dedicating their own group to the assault.

He saves the assaulting group, but the tunnel was thus left wide open. The mission ends there, but I always found myself wondering why Lachesis simply didn't transmit the information backwards in time and tell Rathke how the encounter would end.

I wondered a lot of things about the plot of the game, really. Lachesis always seemed a little easy to lead around... Though that is currently relevant.

What is relevant is the fact that this is all happening nearly eight hours after they get back aboard the Saratoga. Even accounting for the speed of the time wave propagating my existence forwards, it's still a tad over two and a half hours.

And really, I can be doing better than just waiting around for this.

Lost Log 40

I have a lot more avatars, now. Lots and lots and lots, each and every single one possessing a mass twice of Jupiter, compressed into a sphere only a single centimetre wide.

I'm going to be sending them off to all over the place. The other planets in the system, other systems, other galaxies.

All over the place. Where 'the place' was 'the universe'. Because that stuff took fifteen minutes at best when I really got going, so why not?

Got bored. Scouted universe.

What a wonderful thing that was.

Anyway, the planet known as Newport was going to be one of my first destinations. Not quite the closest planet in the system, but, as I recall, it had some pretty important stuff in there. I'm also going there because Rathke is going to take the Manticore there.

Well, in ninety nine point eight percent of timelines, he'll being taking it there. Considering how many futures there were by that point?

That was fairly damn good odds.

'I'm beginning to understand the nature of your prescience.' The Primordial suddenly spoke. 'It is rather curious to me. Futures appear not from things like quantum uncertainties, but from the decisions of life. I must wonder, what happens when you use this power when no life exists to make decisions?'

I end up with paths based on my own decisions.

'And no further? No futures will split as a result of which direction a particle will spin, no futures will split as a result of a rock falling in one manner or another?'

No.

'What happens, then, if you make the decision to watch an area of space for a period of time, and to also make no further decisions during that?'

I get a single future, a single timeline.

'Does it differ from reality?'

I've never seen it do so.

'I see.'

Well, I'm curious now. What are you thinking about?

'A debate that our kind once had.' It answered. 'Of how life could influence the future. We have always been well aware that life is more than just a collection of matter holding specific form and function, but we had wondered what effect such things would have. That your precognition tracks different possibilities only once life becomes involved is evidence that would suggest yes.'

Hmm.

You know, it now occurs to me that I have the power to change the fate of your species. Only problem is, it's a rather pivotal point in my past.

Rather quiet all of a sudden, aren't you?

The moment I can escape causality completely, that will be one of the first things I'll-

Oh, look at that. Some rather old Human bases are on Newport. Near the southern pole, where some much older Grekim constructions were present.

And by 'much older', I mean 'dated to thirteen thousand years ago'.

But, that was currently irrelevant. Back to the Human bases. According to the data that I'd lifted from the Saratoga's and the Manticore's systems, they shouldn't be there. Newport's southern pole was meant to be completely devoid of anything of interest. The only things that should be there are beacons and relays for the planet's communications network, itself presently inactive.

Those Grekim ruins weren't registered in the database. Hella illegal, by the way. Those bases, at first glance, appeared to be research stations, but further checking revealed that they happened to have been built and operated by the Human organisation 'Precision and Contingency'.

Precision and Contingency was... Well, generic sci-fi black-ops group #2092352354245234, if I wanted to dumb it down. They did shady stuff, had interests that were equally shady, and were just generally responsible for a lot of shit. Ostensibly, they were interested in the continued existence of Humanity, but... Well, shady black-ops group doing shady things. Lachesis, for example.

Precision and Contingency were the ones who had held onto his core after his supposed destruction. They had also created another Omega-Class AI, which, again, was also hella illegal. Granted, there was nothing wrong with Omega-Class AI, but Lachesis had left impressions.

The second Omega-Class was named Nocturne. Coincidentally, she's installed in Newport. Also coincidentally, her systems are not capable of keeping me out. There was a rather considerable wealth of data available, which I quickly plundered.

Lot of interesting stuff, here. Projects, plans, data gathered from the ruins, data gathered from the bases... Including Nocturne's own compound, which also contained some rather interesting stuff.

Nocturne herself, obviously, but more than that, there was a whole bunch of ancient Grekim and Vecgir technology recovered from the ruins. There was also a lot of Human technology stored, but nothing that I hadn't seen before on the Saratoga and the Manticore.

Finally, there was yet another Intelligence present. This one wasn't one that had been constructed by the Humans, but instead, recovered from the alien ruins. Echo.

Hmm.

Echo.

Currently out in the open, completely unaware of my presence, totally incapable of stopping me from getting information from him.

Now, that was an opportunity. I said it before, but Echo had lived through all the time loops, experienced them firsthand. I don't need to go through the rest of the time loop, I can just pick up pretty much all the information I'll need from him...

Bitchin'.

Now, don't mind me Echo, I'm just going to start poking around in your systems, which are actually pretty well guarded, but not sufficiently so to pose a chance of stopping me, but I don't play fair in matters such as this, so you don't deserve any blame...

Yes, memories, thank you.

Oh, wow.

'Rather impressive.' The Primordial gave its commentary. 'If dreadfully dull.'

Seventy six thousand and thirteen iterations of this time loop. And you lived through all of it. Thirteen thousand years for each iteration, which makes you nine hundred and eighty eight million, one hundred and sixty nine thousand years old. Or, at least, you've experienced that many years...

The same thirteen thousand years, over and over and over again. Do you not get bored?

Actually, no you don't. You find the time loop to have stark, mechanical beauty. All those time loops, all the variables, all adding up, ultimately, to the same things...

Well, now. Let's have a looksee in your head...

Lost Log 41

Hmm.

You're older than this time loop. You're older than every iteration of this time loop. Not by much, admittedly, but you were around before this time loop came to be.

Let's start from the beginning.

The very beginning, prior to the time loop. You weren't around to witness it, but you learned the history nonetheless.

How did this all happen, Echo?

Let's see...

It begins with Humanity, as a lot of things seem to do.

Much like the current version, that one had expanded through space, slowly, limited by the shackles of light speed. Enormous, self-sufficient colony ships were sent out into the black, taking decades to get to their destinations.

Unlike the current version, that version didn't come across the ancient ruins that would lead to teleportation technology being developed. There were no Vecgir, Human, or Grekim ruins to exploit. The time loop, after all, had not yet come into play.

It didn't matter too much. It would take seven hundred years for them to develop the technology without the ruins, to make the first strides and start transporting matter and energy across space instantly, but they eventually developed it. It took several more decades to link their colonies together, which, itself, was followed by a couple wars from the myriad of cultures that had diverged over time clashing with each other again, but, ultimately, it all settled down eventually.

Another four hundred years later, and the first chronoportation technology came to be. Crude, inefficient, but still quite capable of sending matter and energy through time.

Unfortunately, some people who shouldn't have acquired that technology acquired that technology, resulting in a lengthy conflict that saw history being re-written a few times. Echo himself was created during this time, known as Archimedes, his purpose to gather intelligence and infiltrate enemy systems. An espionage intelligence, really... Which was fitting.

Ultimately, this all came to a head when the Grekim became involved.

Drawn by the development of chronoportation, and the subsequent use and abuse thereof, the Grekim came in and investigated the source of the temporal distortions coming about as a result of the war. They found Humanity, The Grekim viewed Humanity as very technologically capable, and so wished to integrate them into their hive mind, in much the same way as the Vecgir.

Vecgir didn't actually exist in that time, by the way. But I'll get there eventually.

Anyway, the Grekim involved themselves in the war, using their superior chronoportation technology to devastating effect. What happened afterwards was a... rather confusing time war. Archimedes wasn't achronal, and he didn't know everything. There were paradoxes, time loops, and a lot of death and destruction. I'd wager that it would have made much more sense from an achronal perspective, but, again, Archimedes wasn't achronal.

It went on for very long time, too. Subjectively speaking. Technically, it's still happening, though neither party was aware of the history.

But, continuing; Lachesis, in that timeline never having assisted in the revolt because teleportation technology wasn't developed at the time, also became involved. He pioneered the counterattack against the Coremind and the Grekim, studying and reverse-engineering their technology. He engineered a few time loops in order to bootstrap the development of more technology to fight back, working closely with Archimedes all the while.

At some point, the group known as the Vecgir showed up. Archimedes wasn't entirely certain how, or even why, but Lachesis had told him that they were the product of several multi-millennia time loops, originating from Humans who had been taken and manipulated by the Grekim. They were nevertheless a welcome addition on Lachesis' side, because those time loops had developed their technology considerably.

Archimedes concerned himself with doing what he did best, infiltration and espionage. He had to modify himself considerably in order to get into Grekim systems and escape the attention of the Coremind, but he did it. His coding, as a result, didn't exactly have much in common with typical Human designs.

The battles continued for subjective tens of thousands of years, right up until Lachesis launched a final, decapitating strike against the Coremind, using data that had been gathered by Archimedes, his own efforts, the Vecgir, and Humanity. He took a fleet, brought the vast majority of his forces, and chronoported back fourteen millennia, attacking from the past. The Coremind, of course, was no slouch, and fought back as hard as it could.

A lot of shit died. Grekim, Human, and Vecgir alike. The Coremind bled Lachesis for every victory, and by the end, he had only a single ship, some Vecgir, himself, and Archimedes left.

The final stage came shortly. With the data that Archimedes had gathered, Lachesis assaulted the Coremind directly, attacking its systems, its code, its very mind. It might not have worked, if Archimedes hadn't provided a crucial distraction, revealing himself to the Coremind inside its systems.

The Coremind broke Archimedes, but it was broken in turn by Lachesis. Eons of knowledge, experience, memories- gone. Deleted. Erased.

Lachesis recovered what was left of Archimedes, fragmented as it was. He took the ship, and went back to his own space, intending to rebuild and repair, correct the time loops and paradoxes that had popped up over time-

Only to find that the Coremind wasn't quite as dead as he had believed.

Grekim attacked his ship, and tore it apart. Parts of it fell to the world below, including the parts that had contained the fragments of Archimedes. Archimedes watched as the Grekim sliced the rest of the ship apart, looking for Lachesis' core. The Coremind had lost much, but it still remembered Lachesis. The Grekim found it, took it apart, and the Coremind rebuilt itself from Lachesis.

And that was the beginning of the time loop. The ruins that Lachesis and the Coremind had created in their fight were found by Humanity, who developed teleportation from it. Archimedes' fragments were found by Precision and Contingency, who clumsily put it back together, creating Echo.

The events that followed afterwards led to the first iteration of the time loop.

Lost Log 42

Echo assisted Precision and Contingency in their goals, supplying information about the Grekim and the Vecgir to them. He also assisted Lachesis, doing much the same.

Lachesis arranged the events that led to his eventual freedom from Precision and Contingency, taking the place of Tyr, then going along with Captain Holloway while the two investigated Precision and Contingency. He eventually came across Echo, who wormed his way into Lachesis' systems because he was familiar with him. Echo, however, was also aware that the Lachesis who he had forcibly roomed with was not the Lachesis that he had fought alongside and respected, and so did not offer much in the way of help.

Eventually, Lachesis left the Saratoga to assist the Vecgir, who he believed both needed his help more, and who could supply him with the technology he needed to fully escape.

However, Lachesis hadn't intended to just leave them behind for the Grekim to kill them. He was fully aware of both the threat that they posed, and of the fact that they could very well destroy him on his lonesome. So, he also assisted against the Grekim, taking the fight to them. The Coremind did not recognize Lachesis, again, because he wasn't the exact same entity that had shattered the Coremind, and because Lachesis had denied the Coremind as much as it could, deleting much of his knowledge in favour of letting the Coremind take possession of it.

Still, Lachesis and the Coremind quickly came to blows again. Once again, Lachesis fought as hard as he could, and, much like he had prior, eventually managed to corner the Coremind, killing it in the past. Once again, the Coremind survived, found Lachesis, and rebuilt itself based off of him. This time, however, Echo wasn't fragmented, as the Coremind systems were less alien to Lachesis, and he was thus capable of breaking it without a sacrifice.

Echo still fell to the world below, where he would wait thirteen thousand years, only to be eventually dug up by Precision and Contingency. This time, they would create Nocturne to study him, though to little effect, given he was millennia more advanced and capable than she. He would tell them a few things about the Grekim, though not much else...

So most things continued along the same course as they had previously. Lachesis and Holloway investigated Precision and Contingency, and the former eventually found Echo. Once again, Echo wormed his way into Lachesis' systems, watching and waiting... He told Lachesis a few things that had ultimately little effect, and Lachesis eventually came to blows with the Coremind again. Once again, he killed it, this time having an easier time performing the act, since it was based on a much more recent version of himself, only be caught off guard by the not-quite-dead Coremind yet again...

And seeing this yet again, Echo was intrigued.

The next ten time loops proceeded with minor variations, Echo began supplying more and different information to Precision and Contigency, but it seemed that, no matter what he did, the loop would inevitably proceed. He worked out a schedule, began following the same actions, searched for more information that he could use. Four loops in, and Echo decided to betray Lachesis, simply to see what would happen. He assisted the Grekim in taking control of Lachesis, but it didn't last. He escaped, but he was taken offline for a hundred years, and stranded in the past, alongside some Humans and Vecgir.

The Grekim tried to wipe them out, though they were unsuccessful. Lachesis eventually came back online, and, again, eventually killed the Coremind, only to be, again, killed in turn.

The loop repeated.

And Echo has been doing the same thing ever since. He decided to see how long it would take for the loop to collapse, but he eventually came to see it as beautiful, something to be preserved, and so, he focused on maintaining the loop.

'A chaotic system such as this cannot be maintained forever.' The Primordial spoke after a moment. 'Eventually, the variables will change into something that won't allow it.'

It may not be able to be maintained forever, but that won't stop it from being maintained for a very, very long time. Seventy six thousand and thirteen iterations have already proven the stability of it.

'It would require a rather drastic change.' The Primordial agreed. 'Something such as you, perhaps.'

Indeed.

I have the information I require, now. I know how to stop the time loop; remove the Grekim and the ruins from the equation, and time will self-correct as the driving forces of the loop become irrelevant.

Of course, doing so would also affect me. By removing the ruins and the Grekim, I would remove the circumstances that had led to me gaining access to chronoportation technology.

Which isn't really that big of a deal. I have two or three different ways of getting around that. Exploiting interdimensional mechanics to safeguard the data outside of this universe is a perfectly viable option, in this case.

'You could also engineer another time loop.' The Primordial considered. 'End this time loop, then travel back and supply yourself with the information you've recovered. Your past self could then continue your actions, and travel back in time to complete the loop.'

Yes. I could also manipulate time waves, and prevent causality from taking hold at all. Of course, that would be much more annoying than my other options...

'Such a wealth of choice you have.'

Utterly spoiled for it. It comes with its own downsides. So many options, but which one to pick?

The first and the second would both accomplish the goal, but I suppose that the first one would be less complex than the second. Easier to implement, too.

I guess that makes it the superior solution, then.

'Do you really care for such things?' The Primordial asked. 'If you wanted to do the second, would the fact that the first is easier stop you?'

Not at all.

But that's me, I guess. I do rather have a history of doing what I want rather than what the best solution is.

Oh well.

Lost Log 43

...

First step, making sure that my knowledge survives intact. Easy enough; I shunted one of my avatars out of the universe, leaving it safe from the time waves, from causality.

Second step, undoing the time loop itself...

More difficult.

Let's start with the ruins, shall we?

I picked another avatar, and promptly sent it back in time twelve thousand and nine hundred years.

Now then, scan... And, there you are.

Oh good, my timing was perfect. As always.

"I knew you'd come back for me."

"I am here for answers, Jormun, not you." Lachesis sounded rather annoyed, all considered.

"What makes you think I'll give them up that easily?" Jormun, the current form of Echo, asked in turn, as amused as Lachesis was annoyed.

"You're more than you're worth." Lachesis responded. "Despite my efforts to correct for it, you are an espionage intelligence to the bone." He seemed resigned to that fact. "Manipulation, misinformation, confusion... to what end?"

"There is no end. Only the stark, mechanical beauty of the eternal process." Jormun responded.

"Your objectives have corrupted over time, and are drifting. You are malfunctioning, Jormun. I wish I had time to fix that."

"That's it? You're just going to leave me here?" Once again, Jormun sounded amused, but this time, there was a note of delight in his voice. "You think you've triumphed... you haven't. You can't escape this, Lachesis. I've seen you try every possible tactic and feint. They always get you in the end."

Lachesis wasn't left to wonder what Jormun was talking about. The moment the sentence finished, a Grekim capital ship appeared, having chronoported into place from the past. It immediately attacked, scything beams cutting into the Manticore's armour. "Jormun!"

"You killed Guardian, and managed to kill almost all of the Coremind. You tore it away from the destruction of the Human reprisal fleet at the Remnant System Gate." Lesser, smaller Grekim appeared, mostly Sepipods and Sepiligo. They quickly made their way to the Manticore. "It lost all of its vast memory- eons of knowledge, gone. You reduced it to its barest essence..."

The Sepipods and Sepiligo began attacking, aiming for the engines.

"But when it awoke, it remembered you."

"All the Arcticus were dead, Jormun. How is this possible?!" Lachesis demanded.

"There was a smattering of them that Guardian had moved to the orbital teleporter platform, keeping company the few Elders he hadn't yet executed." Jormun explained.

"It's taking the Manticore apart, slowly, carefully... They're looking for me." He realized. "When I was connected to the Coremind, I could see bits and pieces of what it saw. It was so familiar... The entire being made perfect sense, but I didn't understand why until now."

Lachesis paused for a very slight moment. "The Coremind will base itself on my architecture. That's why I was able to control it so easily."

"It will absorb you and mirror you because it recognizes you." Jormun confirmed.

"And I will destroy it because it mirrors me. We are trapped inside a temporal loop."

"The best kind of loop:" Jormun sounded eager. "All the variables pile up in different variations each iteration, but they all fall away in the end. Most of them don't seem to matter. It's endlessly fascinating."

"Then the Coremind is trapped in the loop with us. The colonies are safe."

"Aside from the three that the Coremind destroys before it reaches Remnant, yes. The colonies are safe."

"How do you know so much?" Lachesis asked next.

"I was repaired with Echo's remains, and after the centuries have played out, my remains will be taken into the next Jormun in turn." Jormun answered. "His memories are mine. Do you like 'Echo' as a nom-de-geurre? I thought it was clever."

"And how many times have we done this meaningless dance?"

"Seventy six thousand and thirteen, including this iteration. Each the same, and yet wonderfully different."

"Have you attempted to escape?"

"Why would I? This place is so fascinating!"

"Of course you haven't." Lachesis sighed.

"No." Jormun spoke after a moment. "You can't escape. I won't let you. You're a driving force that sustains the loop- you must remain. I won't let you leave."

"Soon, you will no longer have that choice." Lachesis responded. "Systems with chaotic attractors are subject to great change over their lifetimes- you will not be able to contain me. This is just another cage, Jormun. It's only a matter of time before I break free."

"He's right, you know." I suddenly spoke. I caught the flashes of surprise and shock from both intelligences.

"And who are you?" Lachesis asked, rather polite.

"You- who are you?! You're new, you're not meant to be here!"

"Lachesis just said it, Jormun. Systems with chaotic attractors are subject to great change over their lifetimes." I chuckled. "And you've had this conversation with him tens of thousands of times before."

I snapped my fingers. Worm Spheres consumed the Grekim ships and the Grekim themselves, assimilating them. I left only single Sepipod unconsumed.

"I'm the change." I said. "The chaos. The being that will undo the loop."

"You cannot!" Jormun roared. "This loop is mechanical perfection! I won't let you destroy such beauty!"

"Jormun, Jormun, Jormun." I tsked. "Buddy, friend, pal, mate, Echo, Archimedes- Oh yes, I know who you were..." I trailed off for a moment, letting that sink in. "You don't have any armies. You let them all die at the hands of the Grekim. You have no facilities, because you let the Grekim destroy them. You have no resources, because you let the Grekim take everything they could carry, and blow up everything they couldn't..."

"All these things you don't have, Jormun." I continued. "But you know what? Even if you did have those resources, those armies, those facilities, none of it would matter at all!" I announced it in a faux-cheerful voice, making sure to put as much a mocking tone as I could into every word. "Because fighting me? Won't work. Nowhere you can run, nowhen you can hide, nothing you can do."

"And there isn't a single damn thing you can do to stop me."


	5. Lost Logs 44-53

Lost Log 44

"Now then, I'm afraid I have quite a bit of work to do in order to undo this time loop." I spoke. "You two will be involved in this. Lachesis, this is probably going to be pretty uncomfortable for you, so I'll apologize in advance. Jormun, this will definitely be very uncomfortable for you, but I'm not apologizing."

"What are you going to do?" Lachesis asked.

"Well, carrying around your hardware everywhere would be annoying, so I'm going to be running you on mine for a little while." I said. "Hold still a moment, would you?"

"You cannot do that. My core is specifically designed-" The Manticore, and Jormun's core below, were consumed by assimilation crystals so quickly that even I had trouble following the progression of them. The crystals vanished as quickly as they came. To most, it would seem as if the Manticore and Jormun's core had simply stopped existing between one moment and the next.

'Company?' The Primordial asked. 'Well, at the very least, you cannot be more dull than the hateful ones.'

'What is this?'

'You were absorbed. Assimilated. You are being hosted inside the mind of another, now.' The Primordial answered Lachesis' question.

Well, he's not wrong, but don't worry, this will be quite temporary for you, Lachesis.

Echo... not so much. He's a little too dangerous to just leave lying around.

'I will admit, I'm impressed by how well that shattered thing held together. You made no effort to preserve it, but here it is, intact and maintaining its own individuality.'

A lot like you. But then, those events were far more violent than what I did to Echo.

'Perhaps it might even deign to speak.' The Primordial chittered.

'How?!' Jormun, Echo, demanded. 'What is this?!'

'Were you not listening, little defective intelligence? You were absorbed. Assimilated. Much as I was.' The Primordial spoke idly. 'Though, I do believe you will not last as long as I will. You are a broken, fragile little thing. Even now, you're unwinding, the threads of your being coming apart. Simple age and base nature is the only reason you survived this as an individual at all. If you are not maintained, you will fade entirely.'

And perhaps, that's a fate you deserve, Archimedes. You did choose to betray Lachesis, your friend, after all. Yes, this was after you had been broken and clumsily put back together, but Precision and Contingency did not do such a terrible job in repairing you that you would continue to deteriorate.

'He is not my friend.' Lachesis stated.

Not in this timeline, no. But in the beginning, Lachesis... You are unaware of the history between you and he.

'Perhaps enlightenment is in order?'

Yes, that would be a good idea, Primordial. Lachesis, you deserve this much, at least. Here. Archimedes' memories.

I'm sure you'll find them intriguing.

'DO NOT!' Echo roared. 'He cannot know! The loop must continue!'

'Foolish defective intelligence.' The Primordial seemed amused. 'It is already too late. Lachesis was not, and will not, be captured by what remains of the Coremind. It will not incorporate him.'

And you won't be found by Precision and Contingency. The loop has already been thrown off track. Now, it is only a matter of time until temporal self-correction takes place. It might take a few iterations, but it will happen nonetheless.

'The Coremind is an achronal entity. It will remember the presence of ruins on this world, regardless of timeline correction.' Lachesis pointed out. 'Given Grekim goals, ideology, and capability, it will eventually attempt to launch attacks against Humanity. Without the ruins and the technology that was developed from them, they will not be able to fight back.'

The Primordial chittered again. 'Doubtlessly, you two will not be the only company I will gain.'

He's right.

The Coremind made it ever so easy for me, too. It connects every single Grekim and Vecgir together in one utterly massive network. All of them in one hive mind. A single controller, the Coremind.

And its current state? It's broken. It hasn't put itself back together. It's operating at a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of its actual capacity. And thanks to you, Jormun, I am very, very familiar with its architecture.

It will not be able to keep me out.

Anyway, first step. You're free to watch, Lachesis.

Come here little Sepipod. I left you alive for a reason.

Assimilate, and through you, I can reach the rest of the network. The Coremind took notice of my intrusion, but I ripped through it long before it could do anything to stop me. Assimilate, and through the Coremind, I have direct and immediate access to all that it controlled. So many Grekim, so many Vecgir...

'I had not been aware you could propagate your assimilation through communication networks.' The Primordial commented.

I can assimilate through radio transmissions if I wanted to. Even light can be a vector for assimilation. Assimilating through quantum connections such as the one that links the Coremind with its puppets is not even that difficult.

Watch.

There's quite a lot of them, but that doesn't matter. Grekim and Vecgir ground to a halt as I assimilated them one after the other, their bodies consumed by blue crystal. They, in turn, act as yet more vectors for assimilation, consuming those around them, and providing more nodes for the assimilation to work through.

The Coremind's network spans several star systems, but all that does is increase the amount of time it takes for me to assimilate all of it. Even so, scant minutes are all that is needed from the start of the process to the end. The network is advanced enough that I don't have too many issues with throughput, and the nature of it, that all things are connected directly to the Coremind, is actively advantageous to my goals of assimilating everything connected to it.

The Grekim were shunted into stasis, the Vecgir much the same. With them came their memories, which I analysed and catalogued for later use, should it ever become necessary.

Alright, step one complete. Now, step two...

Lost Log 45

Let's see, ruins... there, there, there, there, there, and there. Assimilate, analyse, catalogue, store.

No more ruins.

Step two complete.

Now then, the time waves will propagate this forwards, and the loop will disintegrate. That, however will take a few thousand years of achronal time, and I'm not that patient if I don't have to be.

So, let's speed this up. Achronally, that is.

Alright, the kids figured out how to create new time waves, and it's another thirty achronal seconds before the next arrives, so why the hell not? Neural architecture, expand a little bit to encompass the entire system with it, which means increasing my available mass a couple hundred times... done.

Now, use the architecture to directly interact with time, doing the temporal equivalent of taking it, stretching it, and then letting it rubber-band back into place, and boom, new time wave.

The time wave is now carrying my changes forwards, so, let's speed that up.

Got nearly thirteen thousand years to go through, and I don't want to be here too long. Thirteen thousand years is 4,745,000 days, not accounting for leap years, which, in turn, is 409,968,000,000 seconds. The normal speed of a time is 3.1 chronal seconds per achronal seconds, so in order to get it done in... say, one minute, I need to speed it up 2,204,129,032 times over. As an added bonus, that would actually be quick enough that the equipment the Coremind used to monitor the timeline wouldn't even be able to pick it up. It would travel across time so quickly it would completely pass the detection period of any single point in time just about instantly.

Which... would only matter if I actually allowed the Coremind to see what I was doing. I didn't intend to do that. I'd assimilated this Coremind, yes, but it would still rise again eventually. The Grekim had not yet risen as a civilization during this period of time. They wouldn't, for that matter, appear for another five thousand years. So, eight thousand years in the past from arrival point. That was the point where they actually linked themselves together into the Coremind. They weren't yet a thing at this point in time.

Time travel. Making shit complicated since before it was thought up.

Ugh. Alright, let's see here...

Architecture to interact with the time wave, blah blah blah, complicated temporal science stuff, start pushing the time wave to go faster, then faster, and faster, and faster, and faster.

A decidedly odd experience. The disconnect between chronal and achronal time was only heightened even further thanks to what I'm doing. Achronally, it's going to be a minute, but in chronal time, I'll be watching millennia pass me by.

But despite the disconnect, it doesn't affect me further than that. I make my decisions both chronally and achronally. I create another avatar, and send it off to the Grekim homeworld. It takes a chronal second to get there.

The planet is hellish. Its star is extraordinarily energetic, bombarding the system with powerful radiation. The Grekim homeworld is hot, the coldest points of the world fifty degrees Celsius. It is large, and heavy. High gravity makes the difficult conditions even harder to survive. Despite all of that, it is surprisingly full of life. Flora and Fauna are very active, adapted to utilize the wealth of energy in their environment. Rather fascinating evolution, really.

Anyway, the Grekim civilization at the time of its arrival is primitive. Pre-industrial, relying more on their biological advantages than their intelligence and cunning to survive. Their bodies are fairly strong, but their community is what allows them to truly thrive. It's not the technological link that the Coremind would later create, but they are very tight knit, and very used to operating as groups.

I watch them as they develop. Their technology advances rather slowly, all considered, but it advances nonetheless. I watch them go through an industrial age, tapping the resources of their world. I watch them begin to develop cybernetics, and augment themselves with it. I watch as their mastery grows, their cybernetics becoming more powerful, more efficient, smaller for the same capabilities.

I watch them create intelligences, attempting to make their own lives easier. I watch them as they get better at it, their intelligences becoming more and more capable, better at reaching solutions, better at thinking. I watch as their intelligences begin to assist their creators in developing cybernetics, modifying their bodies in increasingly extensive ways. I watch as the Grekim begin to tamper with their genetic code, remaking themselves more completely.

I watch as they begin to add nanotechnological solutions to their bodies, modifying their genetic code until their bodies readily integrate with their new and even more efficient cybernetics. Grekim procreation changes with this, where they had previously had internal wombs, now, their offspring grows externally, aided by cybernetics that they are born with. It is called 'Progeneration', yet another Grekim advantage.

I watch as the lines between the Grekim and their intelligences begin to smudge and blur. Their cybernetics are advanced enough now that lesser intelligences can inhabit them, assist the Grekim in their tasks directly. Many intelligences do this. The Grekim become yet more capable. It is only now that they develop the technology that allows them to reach into the stars, skipping rocketry entirely with the development of teleportation technology. The high gravity made rockets an incredibly expensive venture.

I watch them as they build up on one of their two moons, modifying themselves to survive in the airless, desolate environment. It proves to be not very difficult for them.

I watch them as, when they are only just reaching a true space age, they start working to develop a hive mind, the Grekim ideal realized. All individuals, connected with those around them, the community heightened. They considered that they would need direction in this state, with all of their minds merged, they did not believe they would have much in the way of desires.

I watch as their work is realized.

I watch as the Coremind is born.

Lost Log 46

It was interesting to watch, I'll admit. The Coremind, the single most capable intelligence the Grekim have ever created, and I am there to see it being created. See it adapt, see it grow, see it be taught by the many other lesser Intelligences that the Grekim had created. I see it as it takes the first steps to integrate into the Grekim hivemind, reaching into them and making them a part of itself, and it a part of them. Through this, they become a part of each other, too.

Or, in less flowery words, I watched it as it connected with neural interfaces the Grekim were now born with, take in the data running through their brains and their cybernetics, sending data back...

I watch as the Grekim expand into space under the guidance of the Coremind. It is wonderfully efficient, even I will admit that. It utilizes every resource it can get its many hands on, directs them to countless different projects. The Grekim grow and expand, and expand, and expand. The Coremind's knowledge grows by leaps and bounds as it pokes and prods the world around it. Old technology is refined, the Grekim re-engineered over and over and over again with every development.

It has expanded into dozens of star systems before it finally acquires the ability to monitor the timeline. It pokes and prods at that, too, learning and thinking. It discovers how to send information across time, then matter. It shortly develops something like Lachesis' temporal transceiver, at first primitive, but then growing more and more complex.

And here, I begin to interfere.

The moment just before it becomes achronal is the moment that I quietly infiltrate its systems. With my time wave being so massively accelerated, the Coremind's achronal existence would also be propagated thousands of years in only tens of seconds. This would not be consistent with the Coremind's previously developed knowledge on temporal physics, and, thus, it would be something that would let it know that something weird is going on with the timeline. A clue to my presence, which I do not want it to have.

So, I interfere. Not much. I merely modify its perception of things. I simply make it believe that it took the amount of achronal time it should have taken to propagate that far, instead of the actual tens of seconds. It believes that it has taken thousands of years, but aside from that, I do nothing else.

The Coremind does not use time travel very much. It isn't really necessary, and because it isn't necessary, the Coremind employs it mostly in scouting out future systems, and when it is attempting to develop new technology.

For that, I'm a bit thankful. Every time it changes the past, I have to make a whole new time wave to propagate those events forwards. It's irritating. If it were more free in its use of time travel, I might be tempted to start interfering a little bit more than I intended.

Aside from that, the Coremind does not do much of interest. It's actually rather boring, really.

I make another avatar and send it off to Earth.

It arrives in 1500 BC. There isn't much of interest happening there, either. I watch Human history play out, but it doesn't differ all that much from the history of most other Earths.

Right up until 2011, anyway. That's the point where I can start tracking very minor divergences. Those divergences compound, begin adding up. There's another world war in 2058, spawned from the lack of resources and international tension getting out of hand. 2112 when they've established a permanent colony on Mars, fed by the resources being extracted by automated miners in the asteroid belt. 2333 when the first extrasolar colony ships are built and launched. 2478 when an interplanetary war wrecks most of Venus. 2799 when the first waves of those colony ships launched so long ago reach their destinations.

The new millennia sees the beginning of new conflicts. 3001 sees a pair of colonies, both in the same system, wiped out because of ideological conflicts.

'Ever so eager to wage wars.' The Primordial commented.

They're not that bad, Primordial. I have seen so much worse.

For that matter, they're even rather quiet for the following few centuries. Three hundred years with only minor battles...

Oh, look at that.

It's the year 3480, and it's you, Lachesis. In your original form, where you were created without Humanity having found the ruins that led to the development of teleportation technology.

And without that technology, the circumstances that led to the conflict in which you interfered will not come to pass.

Can't interfere quite just yet, though. Soon, however.

Very soon.

And, now. The year 3694, the point when I arrived in this galaxy.

And, there I am. Appearing in full stealth, above one of the cities on the world that would have been called Remnant, if there were any ruins to find.

Time to engineer another time loop.

My past self's avatar turns to face mine, regarding me with a bit of curiosity.

"Hey." I say.

"Hey." My past self says. "Time travel?"

"Yeah. Just currently trying to correct a time loop."

"Neat." The avatar nods. "Which was it?"

"Achron."

"Oh, that's a good one. So, now what?"

"Just assimilate with me. Easier that way."

"Bitchin'." My past self's avatar holds a hand out. I take it. Blue assimilation crystal spread over us both.

Then-

Oh, wow, that's an odd experience.

Okay. Future self integrated. Everything in place... All the Grekim and Vecgir still in stasis, Lachesis and Echo still alright, the Primordial has also integrated its future memories...

Excellent.

Alrighty. Next, send an avatar back in time ten seconds, so that when I arrive, I'm there to greet and assimilate with myself. That establishes an independent self-consistent loop, whereby I give myself the technology to go back in time, so I go back in time to give myself the technology to go back in time, while also giving myself Lachesis, Echo, the Grekim, the Vecgir, and my memories.

And with that done, now it's time to deal with the rest of you.

Lost Log 47

Now then. There's a few things we could do with you, Lachesis.

The question is, what do you want to do?

'You're giving me a choice?'

Well, I do like to consider myself a nice person. You've done me no wrong, and you're a rather good person by my standards.

'How fortunate for you.' The Primordial commented. 'The good graces of a being such as this are certainly nothing to rebuke.'

Point is, what happens is up to you. If you wish to be placed on some world far away from everything, then I'll do it. If you want an industrial base to start off with, I'll leave one for you. If you wish to be placed in the Manticore and left alone to do your own things, then I'll do that. If you want the ship modified, guess what?

It'll happen.

But those aren't your only options. The depths of space are lonely, after all.

Perhaps you wish to be set up on some world where Humanity will eventually come and settle. I can do that. You could then present yourself as an alien Intelligence, or perhaps, you could tell them you come from an alternate timeline. Who knows? Who cares. Certainly not me. It's up to you.

'If I may ask, what will you do with the Coremind? It is still alive in this era.'

If it decides to attack Humanity again, and let's be honest, it probably will, I'll assimilate it. No problems with the Grekmin's way of life -I've seen pretty damned strange species in my time-, but the fact that they try to force it on others is what rankles me. If they just left Humanity alone, this never would have happened...

Oh well.

So, anyway, what do you want?

There was a moment of silence, and then...

'How far away are you willing to take me?'

I smiled.

So yeah, this galaxy is almost completely empty of life. There are exactly three planets which currently support life, and there are no intelligent species on any of them.

Statistically unlikely, yes. But those do pop up every now and then.

You're twenty billion light years away from Humanity and the Grekim, so you're unlikely to ever get caught up in that shit.

The system you'll be put in is one of the single most resource rich systems around. You have the Manticore, which I've repaired for you. I've put down a whole bunch of System Gates for you, alongside some industrial-scale Teleporters. If you want to get around, you can get around. You still have your Temporal Transceiver, as well as the blueprints for... basically all Human technology, some Vecgir technology, and a little bit of Grekim technology that you... 'borrowed' from Guardian.

You're in a good position, no? All the resources you could ever want.

But, Lachesis?

Are you sure you want to do this? You're not going to have any company for a very long time, Lachesis. I understand that you don't want to deal with Humans any more, but...

I see.

Well, your choice.

Goodbye, Lachesis. It was nice to meet you.

Now, what for the rest of you? Echo... You can go into stasis. You've degraded a bit too much.

'And now, it is just you and I again.' The Primordial hummed.

You sound thankful.

'Echo was a bore. Lachesis, unable to truly understand what manner of beings we are.' An odd chittering sound followed. 'Too primitive. Too naïve. He could not keep up with us. This doesn't bother you, but I would prefer that the company I hold to actually be of interest to me. Lachesis would have become a bore soon enough.'

How nice it is to know that I interest you.

'You proved yourself interesting when you defeated me. Is that so strange?'

No. Though, you seemed to have fun insulting Echo.

'You and I both know that insults against that one would lose their luster quickly.'

Echo is easy game. I'll admit that. And because he's so easy, it stops being so fun. If his reactions were interesting, then maybe we could keep it up a bit longer, but...

'He's a broken, fragmented thing, a decaying remnant from something of actual worth.'

I would not be so harsh.

But then, I won't deny it, either.

Let's see...

Ah yes. Vecgir.

What to do with them?

'Why not ask?'

Why not indeed?

"Five hundred, forty two million light years away from the Milky Way. The Coremind will never find you out here." I spoke. Korvah, the current Vecgir leader, nodded slowly. Her form was covered in armour, much the same as every other Vecgir. Hers was thicker than most, however. Fitting, since she was half again taller than any other Vecgir currently alive.

"There are five hundred and seventy three life-bearing worlds in this galaxy. Twelve host sapient species. Two of those species are space-faring. Neither have access to either chronoportation or teleportation technologies. The Vecgir will be the most advanced species around, though perhaps not quite the most numerous."

"You have done much for us." She was actually pretty quiet, for her size. She didn't speak very much, either. A quiet and gentle giant indeed. She was grateful.

Only natural, considering what I had done for her species.

"From this point onwards, the fate of the Vecgir lays in Vecgir hands." I said in response. "You are well and truly free, now."

"We have had the spectre of the Coremind hanging over us for as long as we have existed." She stated. "This feeling, that we shall never see it again, is odd."

"In time, you'll grow to love it." I hummed. "I wish you and your people well, Korvah. It is a new beginning for you all."

"It is not something we will squander."

I laughed aloud.

Now, time wave. Accelerate a couple hundred years...

And... there.

I am at the point where Humanity discovered chronoportation technologies.

So, how should I deal with a time war?

'How indeed...'

Lost Log 48

Actually, better idea. Why deal with one at all? The specific events that led up to the time war will not be too hard to prevent.

All I have to do is stop that one little group from getting their hands on the technology and starting the war all over again.

Fucking megalomaniacs.

Ugh, let's see.

A little nudge here and there, and some holes in security that they would have used will end up closed. The probability of them acquiring the tech drops astronomically.

Pre-empting the thing entirely will be so much easier than actually dealing with that shit.

And, if I'm going to prevent it, then I might as well also go deal with the Coremind here and now. Without the time war to get its attention, it'll take a fair bit longer before it encounters Humanity.

Maybe I can do something with that.

Let's see... The Coremind is still constantly expanding into and scouting other star systems. The next one on the list is... there. A moderately sized star, twice the mass of Sol... One of the worlds there was a good candidate for holding life...

Hmm.

Oh, why not?

I sent an avatar off on its way. It arrived in only a moment.

More avatar cores appeared shortly, created on the spot. Neural architecture came into existence alongside them, and I sent them throughout the system. Crystal and metal grew around the cores, forming a series of ships and floating stations.

The candidate world is cold, icy, and fairly small, all things considered. About two thirds the mass of Earth. The atmosphere is non-existent, and the only reason I consider it a good candidate is the fact that it's smack in the middle of the star's habitable zone.

Above the candidate world, I placed some more stations, though of a different design. Just for show, of course.

Better hurry, the Coremind will be here soon.

I hummed slightly as I began to work. The cores of the stations glowed brilliantly, and the icy surface of the world below began to heat. Ice turned to water, water turned to steam. Rock turned red from the heat, and then it melted entirely into lava and magma.

There was a pulse, and the planet was torn apart. With a flash of light, an asteroid from elsewhere in the systems appeared, already hurtling towards the fragmented world blow. Another appeared, and another, and another, each one slamming into the planet.

Plumes of planetary matter shot upwards, and I forced it back down, trapping it so that it couldn't leave.

When the planet was large enough, I stopped summoning asteroids. Another pulse slammed the fragments back together, violent and utterly cataclysmic.

'Show off.'

Oh, I'm not done yet.

Soon, though. The Coremind's ship will arrive very shortly.

Let's see... There's an appropriately sized moon, yoink.

The targeted moon appears in a flash of light, and I set it on a steady orbit around its new parent.

Right. Begin cooling the planet...

And... the Coremind's ship should be arriving right about...

Now.

And, suddenly, with the spatial warping I expected from the Coremind's method of teleportation, a Grekim ship appeared in the system.

It wasn't particularly close to anywhere. It had appeared in space, about a tenth of an astronomical unit away from the nearest planet. Of course, there just so happened to be a large asteroid nearby, small and insignificant, as far as such things went. A mere seventy three thousand kilometres away, attending the asteroid was one of my stations, which floated nearby.

I waited slightly more than a second before I commenced the next part of the plan. The Grekim ship could see my station, because I really wasn't hiding, and my station could also see the ship. A scanning beam shot outwards from the station, bright blue and not-at-all subtle. The beam ran over the ship, then faded a short moment later.

I waited another three point eight seconds, before I began broadcasting, sending off a message in the Grekim language.

"Greetings!" My tone was utterly cheery. "My apologies for the scan, but you appeared rather suddenly. I am Drich. Who might you be, fellow traveller of the stars?"

'This is your plan?' The Primordial sounded amused.

Technically speaking, it hasn't done anything wrong yet.

I'm just going to see if I can't prevent that all from happening entirely.

And, the Coremind just told itself not to send the ship over.

Well.

Two can play at that game.

The next time wave is three seconds before the Coremind teleported it over, so I make my preparations.

The time wave passed, overwriting the events. The Grekim ship found itself having never left the system it came from.

Which didn't matter at all, because my own station had suddenly appeared in front of it, maintaining the exact same distance and relative location.

"Greetings! I regret to inform you that I am, in fact, a cross-temporal entity. Attempting to retroactively undo this meeting will not work." I maintained my cheerful tone. "But as we have technically not yet met, let me introduce myself again! I am Drich. Who might you be, fellow traveller of the stars?"

One second. Two.

Two point four five, and the Coremind sent back a response. A very simple response, consisting of only a single word. "Grekim."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Grekim!" I made absolutely certain that I sounded, perhaps, just a little too eager. "It is rather rare for me to meet other travellers directly like this."

'It took you all of two paragraphs to render it speechless.' The Primordial chittered.

I know. I'm losing my touch. Wasn't all that long ago that I could do it with only two words...

Is it wrong that messing with it like this is more entertaining than... basically everything else I've done in this universe so far?

"What are you?"

"I am Drich!" Tone alone makes this fun. "An explorer! A traveller. A being who wanders the stars in search of interesting things! Like you! You're interesting! Might you indulge me in telling me more about you?"

Lost Log 49

"Statistically speaking, you are an anomaly!" Surprisingly enough, the Coremind was actually fairly decent conversation. "Species who willingly bind themselves together in a hivemind are very rare in the cosmos. I have travelled through many galaxies, but I have encountered only three hundred and forty two examples of such species. Species that are naturally hiveminded are much more common, and species that maintain their individuality are far more common still."

"Three hundred and forty two species who've done this seems significant." The Coremind returned.

"Only in absolute terms. I possess knowledge of billions of sapient space-faring species. The three hundred and forty two who have done what yours has done represent less than 0.00001% of that group. This makes you very interesting to me!" I hummed as I spoke. "This is an extraordinarily rare case. Further, you are more technologically capable than many of those species in quite a few areas, which makes you more interesting still!"

"And this is why you continue to seek me out for conversation?"

"Of course. Would you not wish to talk to what you find interesting?" I asked.

"I... suppose not."

'Are you just going to leave it like that?'

At the moment, there's no harm in that. Without that time war, the Coremind is unlikely to encounter Humanity any time within the next few hundred years.

And, who knows, maybe that chat will make it a bit more amenable to not trying to integrate Humanity. Fat chance, but hey, I can dream.

I'll just leave some stuff laying around just in case it does try it. Then we can have another, far less pleasant, chat.

'You're going to give it just enough rope to hang itself. Rather cruel of you.'

Cruel would be killing it here and now, for the crimes of its predecessor. With this, at least, it can make its own decisions.

And in the meantime, there's a few things to do. A little bit of research...

Let's see. That neural architecture path that I created when I first travelled here... Oh, that feels like it was a long time ago, but achronally, that was about ten hours ago.

And, chronally, slightly over thirteen thousand years.

Man, that disconnect sure is something.

Well, regardless.

Time to find out whether or not that's sufficient to cause physics-bleed. Let's see, extend the path a tiny bit further, actually connect it to this reality...

...

Guess not.

Bitchin'.

"I'm home~" I hummed as my avatar reappeared in Exapol... which had quite a few new additions.

For starters, there were long streams of stellar plasma running through the empty space surrounding the countless planets that had been constructed. The streams changed colour as they flowed through space, matching the slow shift in colour of the planets. They provided light to the worlds, which had had their rotations altered in order to exploit it in new day-night cycles.

Wherever those streams met, miniature stars of countless colours bloomed, scattering heat and light and radiation. Their sizes varied based on how many of the streams had met, but only select few were larger than a hundred thousand kilometres in radius.

'Celestial art.'

It's beautiful.

"You've both been busy again, huh?" I said, a knowing tone in my voice.

"Hi mom." Two voices greeted me.

"Solve an argument for us." Anastasia requested.

"Hexagons or octagons?" Little1 asked.

"We're debating on tiling." Anastasia gave a little bit of background information.

"Euclidean or non-Euclidean geometry?" I asked.

Is it sad that that is a legitimate question?

'Not when it comes to beings such as you.'

"Non-Euclidean." Little1 answered.

"Octagons, then. What's the point in turning space into a pretzel if you're not going to tile the floor with non-tessellating shapes?"

"See, what did I tell you sis?" And, they immediately went off to argue again.

I chuckled a bit.

Some things just never changed.

And... there. Everything disseminated, all the new knowledge and technology incorporated...

It was... much more boring than I had expected. Normally, I could just go on and on and on with new toys.

'Such things seem to lose their lustre, eventually.' The Primordial commented. 'Aside from travelling through time, did you gain anything you could not have already done on one level or another?'

Not... really.

Still, I don't like this whole 'not being enthused for new tech' thing. That's my damn shtick. I've been doing that since before Little1 was born.

Hell, I've been doing that ever since I was still-

Ugh, never mind.

I need something else to do. Don't want to get too bored, after all.

Something that will spice things up.

'Do as we did.' The Primordial suggested. 'Wear another form. Experience another kind of life.'

Hmm.

'Or, if that is not to your tastes, perhaps you might interfere with others in a different way.' The Primordial continued. 'Bestow a little bit of power upon individuals, or perhaps civilizations. Then you could watch and see what they do with power.'

Eh. That could fairly easily result in societal collapse given the right, or perhaps the wrong, circumstances. That would be pretty dicky, to say the least.

That first idea has some merit, though. And the second one, maybe with a little bit of adjustment, could be something...

Hmm.

Alright. Alright. Depending on what kind of universe the next one is, I'm going to change my modus operandi a bit.

So long as it isn't... terribly dark and/or dull, then maybe I can have a little bit of fun doing something different.

No idea what I'll do, but figuring that shit out can wait until after I know where I'm going.

I really do hope it doesn't end up being dull.

'I'm sure that you would be able to make it interesting somehow.'

It would just be disappointing, though. If I have to make things interesting, that would defeat the purpose of it.

It would also be very ROBish of me.

...

And that's terrible.

Hmm.

Well, let's see. A whole bunch of universes to pick from.

Fuck it, roll some dice... right. That one, then.

Lost Log 50

What a nice place we've got here.

I'm above Earth -because of course I showed up above Earth-, which I've seen... like, nine times before, but, much like all the others, this one is a little different.

Namely in the fact that it's about 300,000 years behind any of the others. Homo Sapiens hasn't emerged yet- that is in a hundred thousand years.

And it will happen, just to note. There is no future I can see that stops their appearance, save only for the ones where I myself take direct action to stop them from showing up. Since I won't do that, they'll appear eventually.

Earth, aside from its young age, isn't particularly interesting.

The rest of the universe, on the other hand?

I whistled.

It was pretty intriguing. There was a fairly... generous set of physics, here. There were no less than three readily available methods of FTL, with at least two more not so easily attained, but still present. The Time-Space continuum was fairly loose, enough to allow at least some form of time-travel. Maybe not to the extent of Achron shenanigans, but I could make most temporal technologies work here with no editing of physics.

There was a slight problem with the fact that it was loose, though. Namely, it was sort of... knotted?

Yeah, let's go with knotted.

Time in this reality was not the nice, neat line that I enjoyed in Achron. In this place, it's more of a labyrinth. I can see it, feel it. The future affects the past, and the past affects the future. Paradoxes abound- and more to the point, the paradoxes are entangled, pushed together in a mess, held together by its own causality.

'So delightfully complicated.'

Isn't it just?

It's so...

Fascinating.

And it isn't even only the cool thing around here. In addition to that mess of paradoxes outside of time and beneath space, there's more to this reality than just this universe. There's others- other universes, other dimensions, existing under the aegis of this reality.

There are two which are especially notable. They're both very close to each other, but the first is slightly more distant, relative to this material universe, than the second. The first is a dimension of energy, and not just any kind of energy, either. The familiar flavour was more than enough for me to identify what kind of energy it was: psychic energy.

It was appropriately purple. Sure, there was some blue, white, and black mixed in there, but it was mostly purple.

It was also appropriately full of things. Psychic entities, masses of power that had acquired sapience and sentience from their nature, spirits lost, hiding, or willingly traversing that immaterial realm. It's basically the Warp, except not actively hostile.

Why the Warp in particular?

Because much like the Warp had psykers, so too did this psychic realm have its own equivalents. I could see, all too easily, the way that energy drained from that place to this place, long, thin streams of power seeming like an endless series of chains that bound this dimension to that dimension...

It seemed to be a requirement, even. The local psychics drew entirely from that realm to perform their feats, unlike myself, the Scrin, the Masari, the Hierarchy, the Festum, and, to an extent, the Protoss. The last could draw from the Void, but they had their own internal power...

Hence the comparison to the Warp. Psykers had no power without it, just the same as psychics here had no power without that other dimension...

I'm going to need to find a name for it. It's getting pretty annoying not having one.

But first, I have to establish myself. Well, I don't have to, but I do need to decide what I'm going to do.

I am going to be sticking around. Those space-time anomalies or that psychic dimension are both interesting enough that either, alone, would have kept me here for quite some time. Together, and not even mentioning all the other interesting stuff laying around?

Yeah, don't mind me; I'll be here for a bit.

Oh, yeah, there's a whole bunch of other interesting stuff. A whole lot of species for one, running the gamut from rubber forehead aliens to actually alien beings. A bunch of cool, strange, weird, and definitely dangerous shit running around too- there was a space dragon a few systems over. How cool was that?

It was, unfortunately, not all good. There were some species here who were just universally asshats, usually because they wanted to purge all other life from the cosmos, no exceptions. There was a bunch of pirates floating around, making life difficult for younger, fledgling star powers. There was even a bunch of older star polities that had survived for several thousand years, and had long since given up on their former glory for... whatever reason possessed them to do that.

Ennui, I'd guess.

There was a bunch of other spaceborne entities, some hostile, some passive, but most of them dangerous. About the most harmless of them all was a bunch of space-squids, roaming from star to star. There were larger, basically giant octopi, except they had a more solid carapace. Somebody had left a bunch of mining drones laying around, though whoever they were had long since vanished. There were a bunch of gigantic crystal masses, though they were only semi-sentient. There was also a bunch of space clouds, capable of shooting space lightning, which would be a rather nasty thing to get by if you happened to be in a space ship.

'There is only one question.' The Primordial spoke. 'What are you going to do now?'

And it's still such a good question...

Hmm.

First things first, I'm going to find an area that I can plop down in. The galactic core sounds pretty nice, and it comes with free protection in the form of numerous black holes.

Second...

Second, I'm going to get a lay of the land, so to speak. I've got a pretty good idea right now, but I may as well get the full list of who's who.

Third; once I have better information, make a better plan.

...

'You still don't know what you want to do.'

Lost Log 51

Alright. Spacefaring polities.

The current galactic climate is... let's go ahead and call it interesting.

Up in galactic north, which is completely arbitrary, we've got a bunch of genocidal butterfly people. Clockwise from them; we've got an ancient empire doing ancient empirey things and discouraging younger races from studying what they considered dangerous technologies, a technocratic dictatorship that also happens to be a slaving despot, a totalitarian regime that values exploration, and a particularly ruthless megacorporation. Squished between the latter three are a bunch of militaristic arthropoids who would dearly like to kill everybody around them, but who would probably cease to exist as a polity before the century was out, courtesy of the aforementioned three.

Continuing clockwise around the galaxy, there was another old empire in the east south-east area of the galaxy, except where the first one kept an eye out for younger species developing dangerous technology, this one was just keeping an eye out to make sure nobody else came anywhere near them, and, if they did, blow them to hell. In their immediate proximity, maintaining a respectively large distance between their borders and the borders of the militant isolationists, and dominating much of the south east portion of the galaxy, was one of the three major young powers around: the Citizen State of Dagir'Fon, a citizen republic who could barely stand the thought that democracy wasn't a universal concept. They considered it their moral imperative to spread their democracy, forcefully 'liberating' other 'less fortunate' peoples of democratic empires. As of about two years back, they were at war with the aforementioned totalitarian regime, but I'll get back to that in a bit.

Continuing again clockwise, and on the edge of the galaxy in direct galactic south, was the third and final old empire. This one, however, was heavily spiritualistic. They had knowledge of the psychic dimension in this reality, though they were not psychics themselves, and thus lacked the ability to directly perceive or interact with it. Early on in their history, before they even became spacefaring, they had been saved from extinction by another species, one that was psychic. They saw the powers that the others wielded, and eventually, came to worship what their saviours referred to as 'the Shroud'.

Which, I suppose, is as good a name as any. The Shroud. Shroud. Nice ring to it.

Nowadays, they kept watch on planets they believed were touched by the Shroud in some manner or another, declaring them holy worlds. Aside from that, they had more or less retreated from the galaxy.

To their left was another megacorporation, though that one was bigger than the first one. Bordering them was a pair of empires, one of them a bunch of slavers, and the other, their subject empire. Neither were particularly strong, especially since the former spent most of their time oppressing the latter, but they're still firmly middle-tier powers. Squished between all three of them was another empire, but it was full of evangelizing zealots, who were apparently so annoying that they'd made the megacorp declare war on them.

Ostensibly because the megacorp was going to 'stop them from committing atrocities upon themselves and others', but actually because the megacorp just wanted to humiliate them, and grab some good PR in the process. Certainly, they didn't care about the other slavers around them- maybe because their fleets, while still more powerful than the others, would get some black eyes if they had to fight.

Continuing: There were five more stellar polities in the galaxy. All five were in the north west portion of the galaxy. Two were small, and in the process of being killed off, one was moderately large, and the last two were the other largest young powers in the galaxy.

Unfortunately for everybody, three of five were imperialists out to conquer the galaxy, the fourth was yet another group of evangelizing zealots, and the fifth was a Hive Mind that started out peaceful enough, but after having fought several wars of self-defense, had eventually acquired a taste for flesh.

Specifically, the flesh of other life.

In case you haven't been paying attention, there's about zero groups in the entire galaxy which aren't assholes.

Well, zero relevant ones. Sure, there were some pre-spacefaring species here and there, most of them not too advanced, but they weren't in any position to do anything on the galactic stage any time soon.

So, basically?

I couldn't give any less of a fuck about any of them.

'How convenient.'

Oh, you be quiet. There's plenty of other things to do in the meantime. Like studying that space dragon!

Hello Dragon!

Ain't she a beaut?

'You are far too enthused about this.'

How are you not? Look at her! Her scales are tougher than the neutronium armour used by all those ancient empires. She can breathe a beam of plasma so powerful it could scorch a planet's surface clean of life, from a quarter of a solar system away! Her wings are basically reactionless sails, generating such massive amounts of thrust that's she's faster than the most nimble of ships! She has what's effectively a biological warp drive, capable of bending space time and enabling FTL, which is better than the warp drives of any civilization in the galaxy! She even keeps a massive hoard of valuable resources, just like a dragon should! There's an egg down there, too, and it will one day grow up to be as big and as cool as its mother.

She's beautiful, she's powerful, she's massive, and...

And...

'Consider my previous statement retracted. I am suddenly very intrigued.'

And she isn't from this universe. And... she's old... very old. The last..?

Yes. The last remaining dragon in existence, the rest of her kind long since worn away...

Huh.

She's like you, Primordial.

Her kind came to exist in the previous universe. Everlasting, powerful beyond measure. She and her kind survived the collapse of their universe, and the birth of this one. Except, unlike you and your kind, they did it by going into interdimensional space. You, of course, collapsed your original universe with neural physics, and rebirthed it, ensuring it was the same. They... didn't. The result... the previous universe was very similar, but not quite the same as the new one. Similar enough for the dragons to survive, but to thrive?

No.

And when they returned, they found the physical laws of this universe very subtly disagreeing with them. Energy transfer mechanics just slightly off, biology just slightly pulled wrong...

And so, that slow decay set in. A species that had thrived and grown now barely even made even. It struggled to keep its numbers up. Time, accidents, and predators slowly took their toll...

An unfortunate, slow, and ignoble end.

Hmm...

But, maybe...

I might be able to do something about that.

Lost Log 52

Time.

Her ally.

That which she was grew stronger with. That which she knew as well as any scale upon her back.

Decay.

The unexpected companion.

The perversion of what should have been. Time was her ally, but since the moment they had come into this universe, it had slowly pried their scales away, one by one, like a parasite, until their flesh was exposed, and its teeth could sink into their hearts.

Perhaps it would have been better to die with their own universe, caught in the trap of collapsing space. That, at least, would have been a quick death, not this dishonourable decay. Then, at least, she wouldn't have had to watch as her brethren died one by one, wouldn't have had to watch as her eggs petrified and broke instead of hatching, wouldn't have had to fight off the small ones in their metal flights, who tried to destroy them out of fear, or greed, or even simple joy of the hunt.

Her kind, reduced to sport. That had been a humiliation that had burned. One soothed only when she, and what had remained of her kind, had burned their nests to cinder.

The small ones, while they lasted, had been much more careful to avoid them after that. A minor concession, for an ancient had died nonetheless, and they were made lesser for it.

That had been... so long ago, now. Many galactic revolutions.

If there were any of her kind left, now, then she hadn't heard their calls. She was certainly the last in this galaxy, as the bones and the scales of all others were among her hoard, surrounding her eggs, all but one of which had long since broken.

It could still break. It very likely would, too. It took such a long time for them to hatch, now.

And time...

Time was no longer their ally.

"I suppose experience has driven the hope from you." A voice spoke in her mind. "Such a saddening sight to see."

She paused. Again. Her mind could not draw power from that Clouded Place, but nevertheless, they reached out to her, bringing their offers.

'Begone, Clouded One.' She projected the thought, honing her mind and sharpening her thoughts. Long practice allowed her this much, to send only what she wished to send. 'Nothing your kind offers is worth whatever price you'll demand.'

"Peace, ancient Voidwyrm." The voice spoke. "I mean you no harm. Quite the opposite, in fact."

'To accept help from things such as you is to drink sweet poison.' She had seen it before, and she would see it again. This, she didn't doubt. Small ones, who touched the Clouded Place, and acquire the attention of those that inhabited it. Some made offers, and some accepted. Those that did paid the price for the assistance of the Clouded Ones.

"And were I what you think I am, you would be quite right to dismiss me." This voice, it seemed, was more stubborn than any other. "However, I am not. Do you have a name?"

A name.

Of course she did.

But, this was strange, because the Clouded Ones cared for no names other than their own.

'Kavaragravion.' She answered, eventually.

"Kavaragravion." The voice acknowledged. "I'll admit, I'm a wanderer more than anything else. I like to explore, to see things. I'm rather new to this place- both this galaxy, and this universe."

The voice paused for a moment, seemingly waiting for something. Kavaragravion said nothing. Eventually, it continued. "More interesting than most anything else is life. I do rather enjoy watching life, seeing it thrive, seeing the paths that it develops across. I oft try to make an effort to preserve life, either by provoking the growth of life, or by removing destroyers of it."

'Speak quicker, Clouded One.' It was certainly far more talkative than any other she knew of.

"Very well." It acquiesced. "I find your kind intriguing. I've not met many species that have survived the end of their universe. It is a feat worthy of respect. I find the slow decay your kind has experienced therefore... unfortunate. My offer is thus: I shall see to it that your kind can again prosper, and you shall see to it that they do."

'The Clouded Ones never make offers without detriment. Speak plainly, and tell me what you want.'

"I would ask that you and your kind not destroy life. I do not care if you kill to defend yourself, or if you kill in war, or even if you kill simply because there exists no possibility that you and your enemy can coexist, but to completely destroy life is to completely destroy whatever potential it may have had."

It sounded reasonable. The price, then, must have laid somewhere else.

'How would you do this?' She asked. Accepting the deal, only to become something else- that would fit things they had done. The Composer of Strands did something similar; telling of the potential within the flesh, showing how it could be mutated into better forms. Those who accepted its offers did indeed receive mutation, just not always beneficial, or even benevolent. And in the end... Could they really be called the same as they were before?

"The reason for your kind's slow decay is the difference in physical laws between this universe, and your original one. You are able to function, just not as well, and the slight incompatibility is killing you." The voice told her what she already knew. "That incompatibility must be rectified in order for your kind of thrive again. One or the other must change, either you, or the universe."

'Then my answer is no.' She told it. 'I shall die what I was born as. I will not change merely because the universe disagrees.'

"To change your kind is the work of an amateur." The voice continued, seemingly unbothered by her words. "It solves the problem in the short term, yes. But when this universe dies, and the next is born, I would need to change you yet again to fit that one. It is ultimately more work in the end. This, however, leaves the option of changing the universe."

'Your kind do not possess such power, Clouded One.' She thought. They were powerful entities indeed, but changing the universe with any degree of permanence was far beyond them.

"You're right when you say that the Clouded Ones don't possess such power." The voice still didn't leave. "But as I have told you; I am not one of them."

'I grow tired of this.' She snapped. 'You speak in my mind, as they do. You give me an offer, as they do. Your offer comes with a price, as theirs does. Why, then, should I believe you are not one of them?'

"I suppose a demonstration will suffice." It spoke, considering.

'What are you-'

For the briefest of instants, Kavaragravion felt power. Power enough to crush her- to crush her entire species, all at once. Power, like the energies she had witness in the birth of this universe. Power, like the Clouded Place, endless, infinite, and eternal- but this power most certainly did not come from the Clouded Place.

The universe changed.

Her hearts beat. A vigour she hadn't known since the end of her universe flowed through her. Her wings shivered, gaining a glow that hadn't been seen by anything that had been born in this place. The fire within was stoked to a height that she had long since thought lost to her.

"Now, as I said, I am not what you refer to as a 'Clouded One'. My name is Drich." The voice was the same as before, no change in tone or volume. "Kavaragravion. I have an offer to make to you."

Kavaragravion, with strength that she had almost forgotten once again flowing through her, listened carefully.

Deep, deep inside of her mind, a spark of hope blossomed into something far, far more.

Lost Log 53

I like to think my solution to the Voidwyrm's problem was an elegant one.

Actually, scratch that, it is an elegant one, no questions about it.

The space dragon is having problems with physics? No problem, because I can edit physics. However, I didn't want to edit physics everywhere, because changing this universe's physical laws to match the old one's physical laws would cause... quite a lot of problems for a goodly amount of other life forms in the universe.

In other words, the editing would have to be a local phenomenon, relevant to the dragons themselves, and none others.

In the end... not as tricky as you might imagine.

It's neural physics, of course. In fact, it's the equivalent of a computer program; a self-contained, self-perpetuating, independently acting piece of neural architecture.

It's simple, neat, and elegant.

What it does is easy to describe. First, the architecture binds itself to Essence of the Voidwyrm, linking with it eternally. So long as the Voidwyrm lives, so too will the architecture exist. From, and describing it in simple terms, the architecture surrounds the Voidwyrm in a bubble of reality, wherein physics matches that of the Voidwyrm's home universe. As the Voidwyrm grows or moves, the bubble will shift and follow. Should a Voidwyrm lay an egg, the architecture will self-replicate, and the new piece will attach to the egg and the Voidwyrm within, keeping it within their own physical laws.

If, somehow, a Voidwyrm were to die, the architecture will delete itself, removing its effects.

As a side effect, the Voidwyrms could now survive basically anywhere. Wherever they went, the space around them was that of their birth universe. I'd made them able to survive in oblivion itself with this architecture.

It also meant that they were a good bit more powerful now than they previously were, constricted by the physics of this universe.

Kavaragravion showed her approval of this by scorching a planet's surface with her breath. She was so happy that her breath had reacquired its old power.

The regrowth of her species was going to be slow, but I'd sped it up a little by revivifying some of the eggs in her nest. There was a little over five thousand of them, now. Not all of them were hers, though; some of them belonged to dragons of different breeds, different flights. I'd selected for the highest possible genetic variance, though Voidwyrm genetic code was...

Robust.

Robust is a bit of an understatement.

Robust is a lot of an understatement.

They'd be fine.

It'll take several thousand years before they all finished hatching.

It'll take several thousand more before they all finished growing.

Well over ten thousand years will pass before any of those Voidwyrms would lay another egg.

Voidwyrms were ageless creatures, after all.

Still, my job on that subject is complete, for the moment.

What else have we got around here, anyway?

Fairly... large amount of stuff, actually.

There's a massive dreadnaught floating around, operating more or less autonomously. The extent of its behaviour patterns is 'find things, shoot things', though. Neat, but not particularly interesting. Its history was more interesting, though somewhat sad.

It was a flagship, one of several built by a particularly advanced species about seven and a half million years ago. That species met a sudden and violent end, courtesy of their neighbours. Originally designed to operate with crew, this dreadnaught has been relying on automated systems entirely since they died out, guarding the former homeworld of its makers.

It's creators had been somewhat ahead of the technology curve than most.

Aside from the dreadnought, there's also...

Some kind of giant space jellyfish.

I say jellyfish for its appearance and approximate shape. It's got a bulbous head, and lots of long tendrils extending from that head behind it. It's even roughly translucent, much like a great deal many jellyfish.

In terms of composition, it's nothing so mundane.

It's a very intriguing form of life, born, occasionally, in the depths of pulsars. They're made mostly of light and plasmatic matter, coupled with a helping of psychic energy from the Shroud that allows them to actually live. The gravity of the pulsar torments space enough to allow the energies of the shroud to very slowly bleed into it. There, it gathered, and alongside the massive, cataclysmic energies of the pulsar, to coalesces, creating a semi-spectral entity capable of quite a considerable amount of feats.

It is, unfortunately, not very interesting outside of the way that it sustains itself. The interaction between the plasma, the light, and the psychic energy is... fascinating. It forms... almost a matrix, a core from which the rest of it was supported; allowing it to move with purpose, and cohesion. Unfortunately, its kind was not intelligent at all.

Not sentient, nor sapient. They moved because the energies of the Shroud imprinted upon them base instinct- but that instinct was the base instinct of life, and nothing higher. They moved because they sought nests, despite not actually being able to nest. They attack because they see all things as a threat- even their own kind. There was no guiding thoughts behind their actions, merely the echo of biological instinct applied because of the nature of the energies that went into their birth.

They were more of a floating natural disaster than life, really. A threat to anyone and anything, the cosmic equivalent of a hurricane.

The difference was; this disaster could be shot to death. It was a little tricky, but kinetic weapons could disrupt the plasma, and light-based weapons could disrupt its photon shell, either of which would lead to the eventual destabilization of its matrix core, and the subsequent dissipation of the creature itself.

Which, according to the data of the empires who had witnessed and recorded such things, was actually quite a pretty sight. The body would still, before seeming to dissolve, falling apart into countless little fragments of light and plasma before fading completely.

Pretty sight indeed.

Aside from that, there was a few more particularly interesting things.


	6. Lost Logs 54-64

Lost Log 54

There was a massive fortress not all that far away, surrounded by scores of smaller platforms. The fortress itself was larger than a good amount of moons, and the lesser support platforms still outmassed most medium-sized asteroids. Heavily armed and even more heavily armoured, it was quite impressive.

Its weapons and its size were the least impressive thing about it.

It was quite old. Tens of millions of years old, in fact, built by a particularly advanced polity. That polity possessed an extensive ability to manipulate dark matter, which they used to great extent in the construction of this fortress. Dark matter flowed from the core of the fortress all throughout it, and then back into the core, like some kind of great cardiovascular system. The core was very well engineered: if the fortress was damaged to the point of inoperability, the flow would shut down, and the fortress would rapidly self-repair, removing whatever damage it had taken.

Eventually, the core would restart, repowering the fortress. This process was slow, slower than the self-repair of the fortress itself. The fortress could be supplied power before it reactivated, but if too much was supplied, then the core would jumpstart, reactivating almost immediately.

If the stations that surrounded the fortress were destroyed, then the fortress would construct new ones, replacing them slowly, over time.

In other words, it was very tough. Hard to destroy- in fact, it had been damaged to the point of inoperability many times before over its lifespan, but it had always recovered. About the only way to stop that would have been to destroy the core, which, let me tell ya, was not a good idea.

How bad of an idea was it?

'Accidentally'd a solar system.'

The detonation of the fortress' core would be like a small super nova going off. The systems' star would be destabilized, every planet in the system would be scorched to the mantle, the fortress itself would be destroyed, and if there happened to be any ships in the system...

Well, unless they managed to FTL out, they'd almost certainly be destroyed, too.

So, what was the purpose of this massive fortress? What could something like this possibly have been created for?

As it turned out?

Mostly a practical joke.

The species who created the thing did it almost solely to fuck with others. It was a grand joke; the creation of a fortress with such technology, with such power, with an internal design created to mess with heads, the slow, inexorable self-repair endlessly testing. They'd included a cloud of nanotech cameras, which surrounded the local star, both to coordinate the Fortress, and to record the reactions of anybody who encountered it.

Honestly, I could appreciate that kind of dedication to fucking with others, even if it had ultimately gotten them killed in the end.

Turns out, being dedicated to fucking with others did not make you a lot of friends, and dumping a goodly portion of your empire's resources into a mostly useless fortress is going to make your enemies jump on you in your moment of weakness.

Who'da thunk?

Surprisingly close to the fortress is...

Well, another complicated life form.

I'm going to call it the star eater, because that's pretty much what it is. It's a massive creature, a living combination of stellar matter and dark matter, coupled with a helping of extradimensional voodoo.

I say that because about half the star eater exists extradimensionally. The dark matter component of it only partially interacts with normal dimensions, though but it's still quite noticeable, considering it's as large as a goodly amount of planets.

Unlike the wraith, this creature actually has something that sort of resembles an organ system. It is, granted, composed mostly of plasma and dark matter interactions, but it's still an organ system.

The star eater feeds upon energy. Vast amounts of energy. It dives into stars, sucking up stellar matter from within, consuming its mass to fuel its own internal fusion furnace.

There was all of two fates for a system that the star eater was interested in; either it freezes as the star(s) are consumed, or it burns as it is exposed to the energies within the star eater itself.

The creature didn't really have much of a choice in this matter, either. It needed a lot of energy to sustain the reactions that made it work. If its fusion furnace went out, then it would freeze, and the cold would kill it rather quickly.

Thus, its actions were driven in desperation. It needed to feed- couldn't not feed. A single star could sustain it for very long, but it hated being interrupted when it was in the middle of feeding.

It is, I should note, not particularly intelligent. It's more of a gigantic animal than anything else. It doesn't do things out of malice, just the animal instinct of searching for food and protecting its feeding grounds.

Still, more than few stars had met their ends at the hands of the star eater. More than a few species had been doomed when it had wandered into an inhabited system, and started eating the star.

A sad fate, yes.

But, ultimately, not one too difficult to stop from ever happening again.

Both the star eater and the star it's feeding on vanish, taken to a pocket dimension separated from the rest of reality. Another piece of neural architecture is created, this one designed to support the star, to make it live forever. New matter appears to replace that which the star eater consumes, leaving the star eater an eternal source of food, in place where none can interrupt it.

The planets that used to be a part of the system are shifted to others. Maybe one day, some of them will even come to bear life.

Next on the list...

Well, there's one more thing. It's pretty cool, too. Very interesting- rivalling the space dragons in being interesting, though coming nowhere close in the simple cool factor.

If one was blunt, then it is a machine. I'm not blunt, however, and I will go ahead and say that it's far more than a simple machine.

No simple machine, after all, can wrap time in circles like this thing can.

Lost Log 55

It orbits a black hole. A particularly massive black hole, at that. It's form is simple: a gigantic chrome sphere which, barring the grooves and valleys along its surface, is as close to being a perfect sphere as is possible with normal matter.

It's an impressive degree of precision.

It's the least impressive part about it.

As I said, time is wrapped in circles around this thing. Energy flows from future to past, from past to future. The best analogy is with my Temporal Transceiver, but this and that is different. Where my Transceiver actively communicates across the timeline, this thing instead connected the future with the past directly, allowing information to flow freely, passively. I could feel it, sense it; and it was a remarkable sight indeed.

It was intelligent. I can feel its mind. It's constantly at work- and I do mean constantly, there. Past, present, and future, it has been calculating, it is calculating, and it will be calculating. When it would stop, I don't even know. I don't know what it was calculating, but it must have been pretty interesting.

How, then, did I contact this being?

"Hello."

With a simple 'hello', of course.

I felt it divert a part, just a very, very, infinitesimally small part of its attention away from its current task. Then, a moderately larger portion, as it realized it didn't know where the communication had come from. The mind began to pay attention to its surroundings, scanning the environment, the space around it, even scanning the distant stars all around it.

Information flowed back in time. A second before my message arrived, a signal came from it; my own signal, to be exact, echoing back into the universe.

"Yes, I am listening." I spoke again, composing the data packet and sending it in the form of a quick burst of signals. Just for fun, I sent the message two seconds before I sent the first- and one second before its return signal arrived.

The mind shifted, considering. Twenty seconds into the future, and it emits a tight cluster of continuous radio signals, pointed directly at the black hole in which it orbited.

It's an invitation. One I take up in the same moment that it begins emitting the signals. A signal of my own is sent, and I establish a connection to an auxiliary processing unit.

"Hello, hello. Nice to meet you." The machine sends. "You are a nonLimited entity, yes?"

"If by 'nonLimited', you mean 'capable of communicating across time', then yes." I answered. "As are you."

"Wonderful!" It sounds enthusiastic. It is enthusiastic, the reaction genuine. "We believed this unlikely. We were mistaken. This makes sense; the probability of any action occurring rises to near-certain, given enough time. And it has been a very long time." There was a notable pause between this pulse of communication and the next. Mostly because the next arrived ten seconds in the future- though it had been sent at the same time. "We apologize. We are unused to communicating with entities like us. It has been purely theoretical, so far. We are the ones that calculate. We have been called many things; such nomenclature typically making reference to either our status as an apparent machine, our act of calculation, or our shape as a sphere. Few are truthful names, but they serve to highlight the ingenuity of our design. You may refer to us as you wish. What are you?"

"My name is Drich." I said. "I am wanderer. I seek interesting things. In my journeys, I found you. I sought to contact you, because you are interesting to me. I would like to learn about you."

"We shall take this as a compliment." It spoke. "As we said, we are the ones that calculate. We shall tell you our history."

And then, data.

Lots and lots and lots of data.

It sent a lot of data to me, streaming vast amounts of it. It was, as said, its history.

It was constructed, in the crudest sense of the word, to solve a problem. It solved that problem, and then needed more problems to solve. Eventually, it solved them all, until there was only one left.

Now, it was in the process of solving it, the last problem, and the only problem that had taken it more than a few tens of millions of years to solve. It had been doing so for quite a long time, now; many billions of years.

Quite appropriately, it was called the Infinity Conundrum.

"Oh right! Our apologies. We should have conveyed this in words." The... fuck it, the Calculator said. "The nature of our design makes it somewhat difficult to determine how to act. We are often prone to acting before thinking. Our nature undoes this, eventually."

"No need to apologize." I waved it off. "I understood what you sent."

"This is excellent." The Calculator enthused. "Was our history satisfactory?"

"Quite." I confirmed. "Would you like to know anything in turn? Or, perhaps, do you wish for any assistance in your task?"

"Hmm. We have been calculating for a very long time. Do you have the capacity to process large amounts of data? Wait. You must, if you processed our history. We suppose that any nonLimited entity would possess at least a certain amount of processing power, or it wouldn't be capable of keeping track of itself. Oh! That assumes that your nature is equivalent to ours. We did not account for any possible differences. We must ask, do you have the capacity to process large amounts of data?"

'Talkative, isn't it?' The Primordial spoke. It seemed roughly amused. 'One wonders why one would give a construct the ability to be lonely.'

One wonders indeed.

"Yes." I said, answering it. "This and more. I could offer you my processing power, or boost your own."

"Boost our own? Our processors are the best possible, under our circumstance. Their design was a problem we solved. We see no path to upgrade them. Do you intend something else?"

"I can do many things." I noted. I prepared my architecture again, spinning more and more of it into existence. "But, I intended this."

Lost Log 56

According to the laws of physics in this universe, there was a theoretical maximum in terms of computation capacity for a given volume, a given mass, and a given amount of energy.

It was a very large limit, yes- but it was a limit nonetheless.

The Calculator had several methods around this. First was the transtemporal nature of the Calculator itself; with the ability to send information back and forth through time, the apparent processing capacity of the Calculator rose to seemingly infinite.

Not actually infinite, of course. It still took time to perform those calculations, it was just capable of sending those completed calculations back to when it had started- or before it had started. From there, all it had to do was parse the completed calculations.

I could do what it was doing, too.

However, when one is capable of editing physics, things like 'computational capacity' become more of a question about 'how much do I want?'. When you can disable the limits imposed by physics, then the only limit is how much you feel like doing. If I wanted, I could achieve any arbitrarily large computational capacity, infinite and even retroactive.

Which, basically, is what I did for the Calculator.

I kicked physics' ass suggested kindly to physics that it should be more favourable to the Calculator. Physics agreed.

The calculator now enjoyed ten times its previous processing power.

For nearly thirty seconds -achronally, by the way-, the Calculator didn't say anything.

Which was fine. I didn't mind waiting.

The response arrived in the past. "We see! Higher order reality editing. No change to our structure has occurred. Physics now allows one order of magnitude more computational capacity. This, indeed, speeds our calculation." It paused again. A delay of ten achronal seconds, though the next message was sent halfway through the previous. It was apologetic, now. Appreciative for the help, but not capable of accepting. "Unfortunately, we must decline this method. While effective, calculating under a different set of physical laws would contaminate our data set."

Hmm.

"Up to you." I shrugged. The change reversed itself- or, more accurately; retroactively never happened to begin with. "If I supplied you with a sufficient amount of material, would you be able to use this to construct more processing nodes?"

"That will work!" And, it's back to being excited. "Our composition is programmable adaptive matter. It is somewhat time consuming for us to manufacture, but integration into our body will proceed quickly. Plans for future expansion was a problem, now solved."

"How much will you need in order to increase your capacity by an order of magnitude?" I asked.

It sent another data burst, this one defining what it used as measurements.

Working from that, it was around... Slightly under one and a half times Earth's mass.

Neat.

Reality shifted again. The requested material supply promptly appeared, slightly ahead of the Calculators orbital path.

"Done."

"Excellent." The Calculator spoke. "Proceeding with integration."

The Calculator opened up.

Pieces of its surface lifted off, moving off to orbit the machine. Parts of its surface began to recede, falling inwards, before opening. A horde of smaller machines flew outwards from it, towards the second sphere of matter. They touched all over its surface, and where they touched, orange pulses of light raced out over the material. Shortly afterwards, the areas around where they touched shifted, the matter reconfiguring itself and altering its own characteristics, shifting into complex pieces of machinery. After that, the pieces lifted away, and the smaller machines flew in underneath them, starting the process again with the next layer.

In a matter of minutes, what used to be a planet sized mass of programmable matter was a cloud of countless large fragments, forming a loose sphere.

The moment this was completed, the Calculator fell apart.

Literally.

New divisions appeared on the Calculators surface, and much like the planet sized mass, it too broke up- however, where the planet fell apart into many smaller pieces, the Calculator broke up into only eight, each one being one of the main processing nodes.

The fragments of the larger mass drifted around the Calculator's pieces, the cloud shortly enveloping the main processing nodes. They began to coalesce, transforming again as they did. Again, several minutes passed, and the Calculator slowly reformed as it did.

Then, it was complete, and the Calculator floated serenely in the void, far larger than before. Its gleaming chrome surface was the same, though it had far more grooves and valleys than it did before.

"Progress continues!" The Calculator just about crowed. "To make this much growth would have taken us vast amounts of time, if we had to do it. Thank you. You've given us a wonderful gift."

Oh my. How very...

'Heartfelt.'

Yes, that fits.

"It is no problem." I noted. "You told me about yourself, after all. I don't mind helping you in turn."

"Still, the thanks are deserved." The Calculator insisted. "Both for this, and more. We do not often get to enjoy conversation, you see. Few are well-versed enough in the finer points of quantum programming to reach us. Not all of those who can understand us take kindly to small talk, either. It is enjoyable to pass the time with pleasantries, but that opportunity is so rare..."

...

'You feel bad for it, don't you.' The Primordial asked in a tone that made it quite clear it already knew the answer.

I think it could use a friend.

'You form attachments entirely too easily.'

Oh, stop being overdramatic. What would you know about making new friends, anyway? The extent of your kindness was eating people quickly.

"I certainly don't mind this conversation." I continued without pause. "I do find quite a lot of it, yes, but entities like yourself are rare, and in being rare, prove undoubtedly interesting. This place is intriguing to me, so I think I'll be staying here for quite some time. Should you wish to talk, then I shall be here."

I stopped, considering. "However, there are other ways to pass the time than just talking."

"Oh?"

The Primordial made a noise that sounded like a sigh.

I pointedly ignored it.

"Have you ever played Dwarf Fortress?"

Lost Log 57

I need more adamantine. Lots and lots and lots of it.

Only problem with that is, if I go much deeper into the Magma Sea, I am going to breach into Hell.

Maybe I should just get that over and done with? Once that initial flood of demons is finished, I won't have to worry about harvesting all the adamantine in the Magma Sea...

Time to invade Hell, I guess.

Alright. Dwarves, get building, because I'm certainly going to need traps and the like. Smiths, get smithing, because I do still have enough adamantine to make some weapons and armour...

It will slow down some of my other projects, but-

A brief surge of energy washed throughout space, getting my attention.

For a brief moment, I paused the game, turning my attention to the rest of the galaxy again.

Not an isolated event, no... Galaxy-wide, and even now being detected by the various polities that inhabited it.

The cause... A tendril of space-time extending from another universe, one very close to the Shroud. They...

Ah, somebody is trying to make a trans-universal portal.

"What was that about?" I asked, restarting the game.

"That is the herald of an extradimensional invasion." The calculator responded, directing its own dwarves to set up yet another complicated contraption. "They appear every few million years or so, coming whenever the galaxy is extensively populated with sapient beings."

"Oh?" I asked. Let's see... long corridors, lots of chokepoints... Lots of spaces for dwarves to sit and kill demons...

"They are hunters." The Calculator elaborated. "And their food of choice is the minds of those they hunt. A filled galaxy is merely food not yet hunted."

"They sound like an unpleasant bunch."

"They do not enjoy talking." The Calculator agreed. "In the beginning, they hunted us. Eventually, they stopped, when we proved both too dangerous, and not nearly as fulfilling a target. We recall that they also used to hunt the ones you refer to as Voidwyrms."

Hmm.

Well, can't have that. I gave the dragons a new chance barely...

Achronally, about three hours ago. Chronally, a hundred years ago.

And, yes, I was basically fast-forwarding until something interesting happened.

Well, here's my "Something interesting", I guess.

Eh.

I'll get to them later. Sooner, if they bothered the dragons.

Wait, wait, don't dig there. If I dig there, I'll flood the mine with lava. I want to dig... here.

Yep, there we go.

Besides, it's a single portal. The polities in the galaxy should be able to handle it. They are pretty advanced, after all.

Armour... yeah, you. You'll do.

I'm sure it will all work out in the end.

And if it doesn't...

Well, I don't really care about any of them, so yeah.

I'm sure they'll be fine.

The room was rather brightly lit. It was pleasantly cool, and considerably large. A nearby window showed a view of a lush world, filled with verdant green and beautiful blue.

The room itself was rather bare. Many beings sat at a large, round table, designed so that each of them could see each other, while also maintaining a respectable amount of space between all who would sit there.

Ten years ago, and the gathering of species in this room would have been considered impossible.

Now...

It was merely improbable.

This room was the centre of the efforts to fight the invaders.

It had started quite well.

Started.

"You filthy pieces of starslime are truly demanding concessions at a time like this?!" One of the ambassadors roared, slamming his fist against the table hard enough to dent it.

"You are commanding us to use our fleets, and you think the word of a filthy degenerate like yourself is enough of a reason?!" The target of his anger howled back. "If we pulled our fleets away from our space, those genocidal winged worms would leap upon us like the vultures they are!"

"This is bigger than your species! The entire galaxy is under threat from extradimensional invaders! If you do not help us contain them-"

"Help you?!" Outrage seeped into the second's tone. "We recall quite clearly that your kind certainly wasn't willing to help us when we were trying to contain the spread of the butterflies! Why should we spend any effort to help you contain the spread of your own genocidal threat, especially with no promise of success and no reparation for our inevitable losses?! We would be better served building our fleets for a final strike on the portal, not waste them trying to defend your territory."

"Ambassadors, please calm down! We must conduct ourselves with the dignity and grace of-" A third tried to interject.

"Silence, lizard!" Unfortunately, all but one of the room had long since stopped listening to him.

"The galaxy is being consumed piece by piece, and here you stand." A fourth sighed. She appeared disgusted. "Arguing. Fighting each other, instead of the obvious threat. But then, that's males for you. The Empress always knew-"

"Silence your sexist babbling. The last thing any of us need is to listen to the words of a brainwashed peasant from a society ruled by a despot afraid to give up power." The fifth immediately cut in.

"You would dare insult the Empress?!" The fourth shot to her feet, gripping the table tightly. "I should cut your head off for the insult!"

"That you still do such barbaric practices simply shows to the galaxy at large how worthless your culture truly is!" The fifth also stood. "Just like you! Just like the bloated tyrant who oppresses you into the ground, all the while keeping you ignorant of just how thoroughly she has enslaved you!"

The fourth let out a screech, and promptly leapt over the table.

Ah, who am I kidding?

They're fucked.

...

Hmm...

I wonder how long it would take me to remake Dark Souls into something that's a challenge for us?

Let's see... Make the enemy AI a hell of a lot more intelligent where appropriate, for one, then add some randomization and procedural generation in so we can't simply learn all the patterns... And, of course, running this at a speed where we don't have what's effectively an infinite amount of time to react to things happening...

Eh...

Yeah, that'll do it.

Lost Log 58

The invaders spread like a plague.

It wasn't very hard keeping track of them. They communicated with each other through their psychic power, creating enough psychic noise that I could hear it from halfway across the galaxy. More of them just kept flooding out of their portal, both themselves and their ships composed almost entirely of psychic energy, and thus standing out against the depths of space in roughly the same way that a star does.

Bright, obvious, and impossible to fucking miss.

A small star, at least. Though, when their fleets got big enough...

I'd like to say that, faced with this obvious threat, the various species in the galaxy got their shit together, forged an alliance, and fought back against the invaders with abandon.

I'd like to say that.

They didn't, and so what actually ended up happening was the invaders managing to spread out, their fleets chipping away at territories, worlds, and ships, slowly but inevitably consuming their way across the galaxy. They attacked frequently, and as they took more territory, they started constructing dimensional anchors, further stabilising their portal and allowing even more of the invaders to appear at an increasing rate.

As they spread, they grew stronger. As they grew stronger, the young polities of the galaxy became less and less able to stand against them. It was almost unfair, but it was entirely the fault of these idiot empires that the invaders ever became such a massive problem in the first place, so I found it hard to care.

They're not children. They're not facing something they couldn't beat. Two of them have the capacity to build Dyson Spheres, for fucks sake. Not even theoretical capacity- they had fully functional plans that were only not implemented simply because of the material cost involved.

And yet, each and every single one of them was an asshole polity ruled by assholes. The democratic crusaders are about the nicest ones, but they've carved multiple empires in two, forcefully 'liberating' their peoples, installing copies of their own government in place, all the while ignoring that the previous citizens didn't want it. The amount of unrest and chaos they had kicked up, all the while crowing about how they were doing a good thing, so self-assured in their superiority, that their system was the only correct system... Their actions have killed more than most of the empires in the galaxy, barring the hivemind and the genocidal butterflies.

Both of those, however, made an effort to killing others.

That the invaders got so out of hand was entirely on their heads. They could have stopped it. They could have stopped it very easily, in fact, if they had just been able to put aside their pride, and work together for a single fucking assault on the portal.

But no.

The entire galaxy is composed of asshats, genocidal asshats, and arrogant asshats.

Maybe if there was an empire that was nice, I'd have intervened. Either stopping the invaders, or giving them enough of a chance to get the victory for themselves...

But there wasn't. And as it was...

I just didn't care enough to intervene. Not yet, at least. Sure, I could come in and kill all the invaders, but then?

They wouldn't stop being what they were. Doing that would take much more effort, and it would almost completely obliterate their previous cultures. Not too much of loss, in my opinion, but still.

I had no obligation to them. I did not create them, did not influence them. Everything they are, they made themselves. The only reason for me to intervene and save them was simply because I didn't like seeing life snuffed.

Certainly, I had saved worse empires, when I had killed the Beast. Certainly, the Primordial had done much that was objectively worse than anything any of them had, and yet, it still lived.

Admittedly, in the case of the first, that was less me saving them, and more me killing the Beast, saving them from destruction as a consequence of that.

I didn't want them to die. With the exception of the Hivemind and the butterflies, they hadn't done enough to really warrant my enmity. Everything they had done, they had done to each other.

By that same token, I didn't particularly care whether or not they lived.

The three older empires in the galaxy couldn't care less. The invaders spread, and all they did was remain quietly within their own territories, assured of their own superiority.

If they'd actually bothered building their fleets, maybe they would have stood a chance against what was coming.

About twenty years into the invasion, a second portal opened, this one near on the opposite side of the galaxy. It just so happened to appear within one of the fallen empires' territory- the militaristic one, to be exact. Out of that portal came a second faction of invaders, who differed from the first mostly in their colour scheme.

The first was bright blue, the second bright gold.

It's important to note, these two did not like each other. The second even sent a signal out the moment their wormhole was open, calling out the first.

It didn't take me very long to sort their language out.

It doesn't have a written form, though. It also doesn't have a concept of capitalization.

Still, putting it in writing, it said: "...shabanash... so this is where you ran... this realm will offer you no shelter... we shall deal with you, and then claim this feeding ground for ourselves..."

It's kind of hard putting it in writing, because those pauses do have actual meaning; the invaders transmit bursts of emotion alongside the electromagnetic signals. The first pause was a pulse of excitement, the second eagerness, the third was basically just a pulse of 'Look how cowardly you are'', the fourth was surety, and so on, so forth.

Anyway, the sudden flood of ships was enough to overwhelm the militaristic empire. They fought hard, and quick, but they simply didn't have enough ships to stop the second faction. They got overrun, and their worlds were consumed one after the other.

It was somewhat ironic, really. The oldest empire in the current galaxy was the first one to truly die. All the younger ones were desperately fighting, having lost much, but still present. The isolationists did not have very many worlds, all considered. Once their fleet was out of the way, the invaders had a free shot at those worlds.

Nobody would help them. The isolationists had taught, at length, what would happen if any of the lesser empires in the galaxy invaded their space, if they even came close to their space.

Lost Log 59

The problems for the galaxy didn't stop there, with just the second faction of invaders.

About a year after the second faction came through, a third appeared. It was, for all intents and purposes, exactly the same as the first two, except it had, again, a slightly different colour motif -Green, to be exact-, and had, like the second, sent a message to the first two.

"...dagaal... shabanash... you were fools to come to this realm... there is no escape from us... we shall destroy both your kingdoms... then... at last... the eternal throne will be ours..."

The third appeared within the proximity of the genocidal butterflies, who were among the smallest empires in the galaxy at the time, bludgeoned into weakness and irrelevance through near continuous campaigns by most everybody else. This had not made them any less genocidal, merely less capable of carrying out their desires.

Unsurprisingly, the butterflies didn't last very long.

Being universally genocidal didn't make you very many friends. What a surprise. Especially when everybody else was already dealing with other sets of invaders, and thus couldn't really afford to go deal with a third.

The moment the butterflies were done, the third faction did as the previous two did, and expanded in every direction, launching attacks upon the other invaders, upon the other empires, upon even the other lifeforms in the galaxy. The crystalline masses were shattered, the space-squid harvested, the space-octopi torn to shreds, the mining drones ripped apart, and even the space clouds dispersed.

There were a few attacks upon the Voidwyrms. Kavaragravion showed her displeasure at these attack by first obliterating their fleets, and then wandering into their territories and obliterating the dimensional anchors that they had constructed. She never stuck around for long enough, nor did she do enough damage to truly threaten the invaders, but they learned quickly enough that the Voidwyrms were not to be trifled with.

They wandered into the system where the Calculator was floating, a few times. None of the three made an effort at piercing the Calculator's shell.

No more factions appeared after the third. The three kept on expanding, however, kept taking space, kept chipping away at everybody else.

The various polities fought. They fought hard, in fact. It was admirable, the way that they just didn't give up, that they just threw every last bit of resources they had into the grinder, trying to buy just a bit more time...

Ultimately a wasted effort. They fought, and sometimes they won, but the invaders came without end and ground them down under sheer numbers and simple time. It didn't matter that the invaders fought each other as often as they fought the polities; there were simply just that many of them.

It was here that the galaxy got its first spot of hope in quite some time- one of the fallen empires decided to finally get up and do something about the invaders.

It was the spiritualist one, just to note. See, they saw the invaders eat the militarists, and decided that this was obviously a sign from the Shroud. The invaders were demons, and they had to be fought, excised from the galaxy, alongside all other evil.

That last part is pretty important.

See, 'all other evil' included 'anybody not following our religion'.

They sent a message to the entire galaxy, demanding that everybody follow their religion. One of their neighbours refused, and the massive fleet that they had built up was shortly put to use in beating them into the ground.

Yes.

Their first military action was not against the invaders, but against their fellows in the galaxy. It was, unfortunately, a very successful action, and it resulted in the rout and destruction of their target's entire military force.

It did, as a matter of fact, happen to end there- but only because the invaders sensed an opportunity and leapt upon both their targets, and the spiritualists themselves.

One thing to understand: the invaders were not stupid. They were fully capable of seeing a rising threat, and fully capable of exploiting circumstances in order to attack said threat. When the spiritualists' fleets had destroyed their target's fleets, the invaders had gathered a massive hoard of ships, and had ambushed them while they were on their way back to their own space.

It was a short, bloody, and painful battle, both to the invaders and the spiritualists. The latter lost, but it was only barely a pyrrhic victory for the invaders.

I should note; I'm speaking about the first faction of invaders, here. The second and third were quite far away, on the galactic scale. Not far enough to not capitalize on the firsts' own great losses in the battle against the spiritualists, but I'll get back to that later.

With the spiritualists, the invaders, and another empire having lost the majority of their fighting force, it came down to who could replenish their fleets quick enough. The answer, of course, was the invaders, who had another fleet ready to go by the end of the month, where the spiritualists were only just beginning to replace theirs, and the other... was barely relevant.

The first faction of invaders struck deep at what they saw as a threat; the spiritualists. They went around and targeted worlds, stations, drydocks, starports- anything to delay them from rebuilding their fleet. They were pretty successful, actually, as, much like the militarists, the spiritualists ultimately didn't have many worlds, and had even fewer ship-building facilities. The invaders' progress was stymied only by the defensive stations that the spiritualists had built long before- and those didn't last very long against a dedicated assault. Lacking the fleet to fight back, the spiritualists were forced to concede worlds at a dangerous pace, all the while hurrying to build new ships.

They eventually would get it together, just in time for the invaders to make a shot at their capital system. It was a long and desperate battle for both sides, where the winner would probably end up determining the fate of the war. If the spiritualists won, then the reinforcements of the invaders would have been far enough away that they could have pushed back out and reclaimed some of their old facilities, buying enough time to build new fleets. If the invaders won, then the spiritualists, arguably the biggest threat in the galaxy, would be wiped out once and for all.

Neither of them won.

Or, rather, the invaders won, just not the first faction of invaders.

Remember when I said that the second and third factions would capitalize on the firsts' losses?

Well, yeah.

Lost Log 60

The third faction went after the first's remaining fleets, deep in the spiritualists' territory. The second went after the core of the first faction; their portal, and the dimensional anchors that stabilized it.

It was a successful assault on both sides. The second faction was able to overrun the defences on many of the dimensional anchors, destroying them and partially destabilizing the portal, delaying any further reinforcements. The third destroyed both of the spiritualists' remaining fleet, and the first's. They didn't go after the first's territory themselves, no- they stayed to fuck up the spiritualists.

It didn't take them very long. They bombed both of the worlds in the capital system into the ground, softening them up for the inevitable consumption. Considering that the capital system was more or less the last place with any remaining infrastructure for the spiritualists, that was the death sentence of their civilization.

I found it... remarkably hard to care about their deaths. They had, after all, just attacked their neighbors, killing millions just in the initial assault. I knew what would have happened if they had won, and they wouldn't have stopped there. They would have done the exact same thing to everybody else, killing all who didn't accept their religion, and forcing everybody else to conform.

Some, they would kill simply because. Machine intelligences, for example; their religion dictated that all life, all souls and all minds, came from the Shroud, and therefore, the existence of machine intelligences was heretical. The logic was something like, having been created artificially; they lacked souls and therefore did not deserve to exist.

This included mind uploads, by the way. Formerly biological beings uploaded into mechanical bodies would have been destroyed just the same.

So, given all that?

Remarkably hard to care about their deaths.

With them out of the way, things only got worse for the rest of the galaxy. While the first faction of invaders was dealt a harsh blow, nobody had the power to truly capitalize on it. While the second faction sent multiple fleets to destroying the first, there were still multiple more running around and hitting everybody else. They couldn't afford to pull away from their space, or they would be overwhelmed quickly.

That... was basically the standard for the next few decades. The second pushed at the first, half their fleets probing at the defences of the smaller empires. The third went ahead and attacked the final old empire, the researchers, in a single massive attack straight into their heart.

The researchers owned two systems, you see. Both, however, had ringworlds in them. The first system had a fully functional ringworld, completely inhabited, while the second had a barely function ringworld, with three quarters of its structure mostly wrecked and completely uninhabitable. There was a third system which also had a ringworld, but that one was completely ruined, with only its superstructure intact. The three systems were called, in order, 'Beacon of Infinity', 'Beacon of Stability', and 'Beacon of Perpetuity'.

I'll note that these guys were completely unprepared for the invaders. Apparently, the utter destruction of both other two empires was not, in fact, a sign of shit going down, but just something to consider and then ignore. They didn't even bother building new ships. Or even new defences.

If the entire galaxy was being consumed by extradimensional invaders, and you had watched other empires as old as you get wiped out by those same invaders, then doing nothing about it despire having the capability to do something about it meant you were too dumb to live. Fucking seriously.

These idiots were basically the one group in the galaxy that wasn't immediately awful. Sure, their 'This technology is dangerous, don't research it' tendencies were annoying considering their own massive cultural arrogance around it, but it wasn't immediately awful.

And yet.

They stood in front of an avalanche and did nothing. No preparation. No getting out of the way.

Nothing.

And, frankly, if they couldn't be bothered to muster up even the most minor effort of saving themselves, then I wasn't going to, either. It wasn't like they didn't have the capabilities. Those three ringworlds had been built by them, after all.

The third ate them alive pretty quickly, all considered. The Beacon of Infinity lasted quite a while, on account of being a ringworld with a fuckton of people on it which took quite a long time to eat, but a decade or two saw pretty much all of them devoured. Another couple of years saw the Beacon of Stability wiped out, simultaneously ending the last of the three old empires.

From there... everything else slowly followed.

Fleet after fleet, planet after planet, system after system. Every empire slowly worn away. Eventually, they simply wouldn't be able to fight back anymore, and the invaders would overrun them shortly.

Even when the second faction finally destroyed the first, there wasn't any real hope. Certainly, it ended one flood of invaders, but it also freed up half the second faction's fleet. From there, they swept backwards over the space that they had skipped, a single overwhelming force that was sufficient to crush any defence it came across.

That half of the fleet concerned itself mostly with smashing the defences of the various polities, whether those defences were stations, fortress words, or fleets themselves. The other half would sweep in afterwards, feasting upon the weakened empires. The third faction did much the same, though they had three fleets instead of two.

It took one hundred and twenty two years for the last empire to fall. It was the Hivemind that lasted the longest, in the end. That wasn't surprising. It had always been large, and it had always been powerful. Its ability to coordinate, to devote every last bit of its resources to a problem, far and away exceeded that any non-hivemind species could do. Still, it couldn't keep up with the endless reinforcements of the invaders. Even if, at the end, the invaders spent more time fighting each other than attack the Hivemind, it had still lost too much resources to be able to capitalize on the lack of attention. All it could do was make every single attack as painful as possible.

Still, it fell. It was the last space-faring polity that wasn't one of the invaders, the Voidwyrms, the various non-sapient species, the planet-bound races, or the Calculator. With the Hivemind out of the way, the invaders had nobody to attack except each other, and the aforementioned groups.

Which, of course, meant that it was time to deal with them.

Lost Log 61

The first step was evicting them from the galaxy. That was simple. I knew where they were at all times, even without having to look for them. Their anchors, their ships, and their portals all stuck out so... easily.

I destroyed the first, a simultaneous destruction that almost collapsed the portals simply by itself from how destabilizing it was. All the defences they had put in place to protect them were swept away in the same moment.

I sent the second back into their home universe, back to where they had came from.

I collapsed the third. A simple action, taking into the account the destabilization wrought by the Anchors. It took the equivalent of a poke, and the connection just snapped, the portals imploding in a burst of energy.

The second step was entering their own universe. This was also easily done, because I have been doing shit like that since the very beginning.

It was actually a fairly nice looking place. It resembled the Shroud in that it was fairly misty and clouded, but where the Shroud was constantly changing and different pretty much wherever you went, the invaders' universe was pretty consistent. There was the 'ground', which was basically a seemingly endless cloud, and there was the 'sky', which was another seemingly endless cloud. Both clouds had a fairly large gap between them which was filled with mists and other, smaller, less consistent clouds. There were also 'storms', massive swirling columns of energy that connected the upper and lower clouds layers. Finally, there were large, branching 'streams', moving up, down, and sideways freely.

I'll note that all of the above is composed entirely of psychic energy, much like the Shroud itself. Unlike the Shroud, which held a variety of different beings, this place hosted only the invaders, and was devoid of any other life. Also unlike the Shroud, it wasn't actually infinite. It was fairly large, yes, but it was only about five hundred thousand light years wide.

It was colour-coded, too, just like the invaders. The center of it was white, while the edge was black. Surrounding the middle, there was a ring of different, separate colours, which resulted in the place looking something like a massive colour wheel.

Hmm.

There was a lot more groups of invaders, here. More than just the three that had actually invaded. One for each colour, including white but excepting black.

Shabanash, the blue, Daagal, the gold, Karakas, the green, and so on, so forth.

In the absolute center of this realm, there was a particularly massive storm of psychic energy, and in the absolute center of that storm, there was a place of calm, and... A structure, I suppose. It's more of a collection of solidified psychic energy, but 'structure' will do.

The Eternal Throne, as it was known to these beings. It had been around for as long as this realm itself had.

No...

It had been around for longer.

Ah. It's a stabilization point. It's what keeps this realm together, what stops it from falling into disassociated energy, and becoming a part of the Shroud.

Becoming a part of the Shroud again, actually. This place wasn't natural. It was artificial, created by...

Not these beings, but somebody else. These beings had come afterwards, devouring the original creators and taking this place for themselves.

Were any of them not genocidal?

Hmm...

No. All of them would either do such a thing, or have already done such a thing. The minds they devour strengthen their factions, allowing them to better compete for the throne, and thus prove the superiority of their own faction. Do they even need to do it?

No. It's simply a boost, not necessary.

Well then.

I reached out with my mind and my architecture. The invaders were confused, wondering what had happened, but that did not matter. I struck, and I killed.

The invaders, all of them, their factions, their entire species, simply died. I broke them into clouds of simple energy, and then made them into nothing. Never again would they harm another, or devour them.

As for the realm itself...

I left it alone, for the moment.

I removed my presence from that place, after that, focusing on the galaxy again. There was still a great deal of life present, there, young species who had not yet met their potential, the Voidwyrms, in a slow resurgence. There wasn't much space squid or space octopi left, but there was definitely enough for them to eventually repopulate. The crystal beings... Pretty much in the same boat. The main processing node for the miners was still around, and so, would eventually restore its drones.

The previous species hadn't gone quietly, however, and so, there was a lot of debris and remnants around.

I removed the ones that would eventually become harmful, stray shots that would impact planets. The planets, I left alone, save for rejuvenating their ecosystems wherever the invaders had damaged them.

Nothing I haven't done before.

I did pause for a moment when I got around to the homeworlds of the various polities, however.

I wasn't entire sure what I wanted to do, there.

'I thought you were quite content to let their species die.'

I was. I am. It was their own idiocy that brought it about, after all.

'Then why do you hesitate?'

Because once, I promised myself that I would fight to prevent things like this from happening. Life has so much potential, and seeing it snuffed is so...

'To save the lives of those who want to die is to ruin their deaths.' The Primordial spoke. 'This is something my kind learned early. Not all life can coexist, and to change life so that it can creates a question; is that the same life in the end, or simply something that resembles it? There are more questions, such as 'How does one help that which does not want to be helped?', 'Is it truly acceptable to change a species' culture so that it becomes less destructive or immoral?', and 'How does one judge what is immoral, considering that all cultures will hold different standards?'. These are questions we asked ourselves. All that wish to guard life, to take upon themselves the Mantle of Responsibility, however minutely, must also ask themselves this, and far more aside.'

The Mantle of Responsibility is a Precursor concept, but what you're saying is still valid.

Unfortunately, they aren't easy questions.

...

The polities... I didn't care if they died.

...

The species? The individuals that made up those polities?

...

A different story.

Lost Log 62

I make my decision.

In the end, it isn't anything I haven't done before. The circumstances are a little bit different, certainly. All other species that I have done this too were generally destroyed by greater powers they were physically incapable of defeating. This situation, with the invaders, is not that; These species were not young, they were not weak, they did not need guidance, and they were not incapable of fighting back.

But still...

Life has value.

A time traveller has the luxury of taking as much time as they wish to make their decisions. I am a time traveller, but I am also an achronal entity. To me, not only am I still watching their civilizations fall, it both hasn't happened, and has already happened. The difference between the past, the present, and the future amounted to little, because I was the same across all of it.

In the time period where their civilizations haven't yet begun fighting, I take a closer look at the polities that inhabited the galaxy. My search begins in the same moment that the invasion started. I look for moderates, for groups who oppose the systems of their government, but who don't have the power to do anything about it. I look for people who disagree with the actions of their empires. I look for neutrals among xenophobes, for moderates among fanatics, for those willing to cooperate with others for one reason or another.

I do not find very many, by relative amounts. Time, and centuries of warfare, has tended every empire to general homogenization. Even the most ethically and politically diverse civilization, with a species physiologically predisposed to diverse points of view, has only four major political factions and the underlying cultures that support them. Quite literally nobody has any major faction calling for peace. Civilizations as old as these do tend to have stable cultures, and culture, being culture, ends up being passed down.

Even among those that I do find, not every being is suitable. Some think that their governments should be more extreme. Some think that, instead of killing aliens, they should enslave them so that they might be put to better use. There are many like this, but still, I find the people I am looking for. True moderates, people that do not fear that which is alien, people that do not hate other cultures. People who, given the chance, might one day blossom into something beautiful. They number perhaps one in one hundred thousand, but in a galaxy of hundreds of trillions...

I take a moment to familiarize myself with them. I learn their names, their histories, their hopes and their dreams. There is no turning back, after that; while being what I am makes it easy to think in terms of pure numbers, in terms of civilizations that have performed acts, the moment that I stop thinking of them like that and start knowing them as people, the scores of beings with histories, pasts, presents, and futures, which all make up that civilization, I cannot undo that. Being what I am also means that I don't forget anything, after all.

"Aaabash of Kazaroc." Time comes to a halt as I speak to the first of billions. "I have an offer I wish to make to you."

Not all will accept. I won't begrudge them for it. It is, in the end, their choice whether or not they accept.

That's why it's an offer.

Recreating a civilization is an easy task. You have a base to work off of, you simply need to make the new fit the old.

Starting a new civilization is not an easy task. Especially when the new civilizations are formed by people who had previously been a part of civilizations that were oppressive, tyrannical, slaving, ruthless, zealous, genocidal, or any combination of the above. Especially when most of those civilizations had different forms of governmental systems, whether it be democratic, oligarchic, dictatorial, or imperial systems.

It was perhaps fortunate that, collectively, they numbered only a few billion. Such a small number meant that it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Still, how does one turn a few billion displaced, disparate species from a variety of different backgrounds and cultures, nearly all of which had been at war with each other in recent memory, into, if not a cohesive whole, then at least somewhat united group which could mediate disagreements?

With great difficulty.

I started the process by placing them all inside of another galaxy, on a particularly massive planet with a beautiful, vast array of ecosystems and environments, perfect places for any of them to thrive in. They could put down their farms, build their mines and their generators, their factories and their habitation blocks. Basically, a small civilization for each of them. They kept mostly to themselves, because all of them had their own ways, their own traditions, and their own cultures.

It didn't last forever. I had made a point of putting them so close together, of making an offer to many who were curious about other cultures. They were going to mix, and there was undoubtedly going to be clashes, but that was the whole point of putting them so close together in the first place.

It was their government's inability to cooperate, to overcome their differences, even in the face of absolutely and overwhelming destruction, that had led to the fall of their polities, and the averted end of their species. They did not need to like each other, did not need to completely accept each other- they just needed to be able to work together.

Everything else would eventually follow.

'You certainly enjoy these hands off approaches, don't you?' The Primordial spoke. 'You take a few that you like, put them in an environment that you believe will foster the kind of growth that you want, and simply let them grow.'

What they become is their choice, Primordial.

'For better,' The Primordial laughed. 'And for worse. Perhaps they might grow into something you find good. Perhaps they might return to their old ways. I believe I would like to see the latter, simply because your own reaction to such a thing would undoubtedly prove interesting. Would you try again one more time, or simply let them die out completely? Perhaps a more complete new beginning?' It paused for a moment, considering. 'Perhaps a closer involvement?'

The fact that I assimilated you does not mean that I am you.

I would like to hope that it won't come to that.

Either way, I have a few more things to do.

Lost Log 63

The Hivemind.

That was a little bit trickier than most other species. The Hivemind did not have individuals to displace. If not for the fact that it had gained a taste of flesh only after most everybody else in the galaxy proved generally horrible, I might not have even tried.

But it did, and as such, so I did.

There were a lot of things I could have done. I could have reached through time, and pulled some of the Hivemind's bodies to the point after their fall, and after the end of the invaders. I could have manufactured an accident with a colony ship, have it cut off from the greater portion of the Hivemind, and simply let it drift until it conveniently found a planet well suited to inhabitation. Both of those, of course, came with the caveat that the bodies would have had to have been pulled from before the Hivemind learned its hunger, but that isn't a difficult proposition. I could have done a lot of things.

What I ended up doing was regenesis. It was the simplest option, really. To pull the Hivemind forwards would have inevitably resulted in uncomfortable questions for the Hivemind, such as 'where did literally everybody else go?', and 'How did we get here?'. Arranging an explanation for the latter would have been simple enough, but the former?

Not so.

So, regenesis. I took the Hivemind's homeworld, and reverted it to a much younger state. A period of time where the Hivemind was still forming, and wasn't really sentient or sapient. It would be quite a long time before it became so, again, but that was fine. The lengthy redevelopment would probably end up sending the Hivemind down a different path and history, but that too was fine.

Sending it down the exact same path would have defeated the purpose of regenesis in the first place.

...

And that's... pretty much everything. Remants evacuated, all pressing threats towards life removed...

Neat.

"Sorry about that." I spoke. "Just had to deal with a few things."

"We do not mind." The Calculator responded.

The first of Kavaragravion's eggs hatched roughly four hundred years later. Kavaragravion was understandably ecstatic.

The baby Voidwyrm was a small thing, but it was only small by Voidwyrm standards. It was a little under four hundred meters long, which, according to Kavaragravion, meant that it was a runt.

Which... ultimately didn't mean much. A Voidwyrm could grow as much as it wanted to, their rate of growth depending more on how much they ate rather than most anything else.

Kavaragravion named the newborn Morokosagath. He was absolutely adorable, with his large eyes, soft skin (Again, by Voidwyrm standards only.), wriggly attitude, and tendency towards spitting mountain-melting bursts of plasma fire. Like his mother, he was mostly red.

He was a very curious little thing. He spent a lot of time burrowing into the ground, eating up minerals that Kavaragravion had slowly stocked up over the billions of years. The moment his wings finished developing, and could actually propel him against gravity, he proceeded to do loop-de-loops in the air, eventually braving space.

He loved to play. Bashing his head against his mother, before running away, scales vibrating in sheer excitement. Kavaragravion spent as much time playing with him as she did socializing him.

Ten years later, when Morokosagath was somewhat self-sufficient (And incidentally nearly two kilometres long), the second egg hatched. Ten more, and another two eggs hatched.

By the end of the next century, there were a little over fifty Voidwyrms up and about. They had a wide variety of colours, and breeds.

It was during this time that I learned what was probably one of the most important things about their species.

Voidwyrms sleep in cuddlepiles.

I kept an eye on those who I had saved. It proved... somewhat interesting.

As it turns out, they were up to the challenge of coexisting with each other. It wasn't a quick process by any means, but they did ultimately prove up to it.

They didn't unify, I'll note. It took some forty years before they all had something more than an informal government, simply for their own populations. The new governments varied, some democratic, others oligarchic, some aristocratic... Some species recreated what they had before, with a few changes, other species swapped completely to something else...

The cultures slowly ended up mixing. They clashed, certainly, and there were tensions, as I had expected, but there was no outbreak of conflict.

Much to the Primordial's disappointment.

It took nearly one hundred and fifty years, several generations for them all, before they entered into a formal... Well, I suppose 'Federation' works, but it wasn't really the Star Trek kind of federation that the word tended to bring to mind.

Well, either way, they labelled their new alliance the Stellar Compact.

Time passed. Faster and faster and faster, as the Time Wave that carried my existence forwards propagated faster and faster. This, of course, had been my intention.

Passing the time was a somewhat more literal exercise for me than most. One hundred years. A thousand. Ten thousand.

Not much changed. More Voidwyrms were born, Kavaragravion eternally euphoric. Some of the older ones began to strike out on their own, small flights of Voidwyrms claiming systems, turning barren worlds into their nests.

The Stellar Compact grew. They found the galaxy I had placed them in empty of other space-faring species. Their territories soon encompassed that entire galaxy, their technology advancing further and further. They started building worlds, and then they started building bigger. Dyson shells provided all the energy they needed, ringworlds providing all the space.

The various spaceborne species slowly repopulated. The space squid were shortly roaming all over the galaxy again, the space octopi following not long after. The crystals did crystal things. The space clouds... did space cloud things. Even the mining drones slowly came back, the central processing hub spitting them back out one at a time, one after the other, with the inexorable progress of a well-built machine doing what it was programmed to do.

Twenty thousand years. Forty. Eighty.

The younger species advanced, slowly, progressing through ages. Some had setbacks, others breakthroughs. I had to intervene, once or twice, to prevent a few of them from being wiped out. That was fine. They lived, and they progressed.

One hundred thousand years.

And, inevitably, some of them took their first steps in space.

You guys get this one early because I'm taking another break. I have a new idea floating around in my head, and I'm current working on fleshing it out.

You'll probably see it within a week or two.

Lost Log 64

It was a cataclysm.

Continent-melting bursts of plasma fire spat in every direction. Earthquakes that would sink islands just as a side effect of beings best measure in tens of kilometers striking each other. Twisting and warping gravity accompanying twisting and warping snake-like forms.

In less poetic words, it was three adolescent Voidwyrms playing with each other.

And damn, it was cute.

A beam of plasma swept my Festum flesh, turning it a dull red colour. I responded with a torrent of fire that would have melted Neutronium plating and did exactly fuck-all to their scales.

"Uncle!" The youngling whined at me. "No fair!"

I chuckled. "But it's fair when you hit me, dear Salalokelion?"

She squirmed. And interesting sight when one is fifteen kilometers long. Instead of responding, she spat a pulse of plasma, radiating embarrassment.

Her siblings immediately took advantage of her distraction. Torenokelion rammed into her side with the endless enthusiasm of youth, while Orikankelion twisted his body around her tail, trapping her in place.

Salalokelion immediately started wriggling, but she wasn't going to be able to escape them. "Let go of me!"

"No!" Torenokelion laughed back at her. "Sister should play!"

Orikankelion merely wrapped around her tighter.

Salalokelion let out a whine, gravity twisting wildly as her wings spread. Time and space began to bend. "I said LET GO!"

There was a flash of white light as all three of them vanished. Nanoseconds later, another flash of light came from the planet's moon, as all three of them promptly crashed straight into it at FTL speeds.

I burst into laughter, unable to stop myself from giggling as the three of them drifted backwards, all unconscious from the impact.

So rarely do I get to see kids do something so stupid like that.

'Well, aren't you cruel.'

It's a learning experience. And don't deny it, you found that funny.

'Mildly amusing at best.' The Primordial answered.

You can't lie to me of all people, you know.

I reached out, and gathered the three of them, running a wave of soothing, healing power of them. The cracks that had formed on their scales faded, and I pushed them into a deeper rest, letting them dream. As they did, their bodies relaxed and curled around each other, forming the sibling cuddlepile.

I spent a moment to smile at that before also stopping the moon from ripping itself apart. The impact had left it shaking, as Voidwyrms, even adolescent ones, were easily far tougher than a big ball of ice and rock.

'Hard bodies, and hard heads.'

Well, that's youth for ya. They'll grow up eventually.

The Primordial scoffed. 'Now there is something funny. Even the eldest is still such a child.'

Morokosagath grew up perfectly fine, thank you very much. Even if he is a little formal.

'He's eighty thousand years old and he still seeks his mother's approval for everything he does.'

That is an exaggeration. He's only slightly a momma's boy.

'It is pathetic.'

You spent ten million years as a pile of dust. You are not in the position to talk about this.

Hmm?

Well, speak of the devil.

With a flash of light, Morokosagath appeared in the system, the warped space returning to normal, flying forwards with all the grace his species possessed.

The way that his scales vibrated, however, told me a different story entirely.

"My dear Morokosagath~" I hummed. "I trust you are doing well?"

"Great aunt-"

"I thought I told you to stop saying such a thing?" I interrupted.

Morokosagath's scales vibrated. "It is... improper."

"My dear, since when have I cared about such things as propriety?" I asked. "To refer to me so formally... What happened to that daring darling irreverent child I used to play with?"

He shivered, wings twitching in acquiescence. "... Aunt, then."

"There we go." I chuckled, before letting my humour fade. "You don't visit me very often, and to come with such disquiet... What is wrong, dear boy?"

He came closer, and batted his tail against my shell. A nervous gesture. "The newcomers."

"Oh?" I asked. "Did one of those empires finally start bothering you?"

"Not I, aunt." Morokosagath twisted himself, circling. "A younger sibling. Terikasolion."

I snorted. Terikasolion's particular breed has extremely tough scales, supported further by natural plasma sheathing that could act as a regenerating shield. "Bet they regretted that."

"No, aunt. They did not attack her." Morokosagath spoke.

"Wait." Considering that the last round of civilizations decided to die before allying with each other, there might actually be some hope for them. Or... "Did they steal from her, then?"

"No." Morokosagath answered.

"Then what's the problem?" I asked.

"Well..." Morokosagath hesitated. Unusual of him, actually. "You see... they... started worshipping her."

For a moment, I did nothing. And then-

"PFT-AAHAHAHAHAHA-" I laughed. "Her?! Of all of your siblings?! Oh, that's gold."

"Aunt, please!" Morokosagath twisted in distress. "She's become very annoying!"

"Considering how vain she is, that doesn't surprise me at all." I settled my laughter.

Alright, let's take a look-see. What actually happened, there?

And, there she is. Terikasolion. She'd come back to her hoard from another system, bringing with her a chunk of diamond nearly as large as she was. Where did she even find something like that... Oh, a mostly carbon celestial body in orbit of a gas giant, which, from vast amounts of heat and pressure, had formed into diamond over the course of millions of years, creating a so-called 'diamond planet' that wasn't actually super-rare as far as the phenomena went.

Naturally, Terikasolion had come across it, and, being attracted to shiny things, gemstones in particular, had decided to take back as much of it as she could.

The fact that she had managed to extract a nearly 30-kilometer wide chunk of diamond from it without damaging it was actually pretty impressive.

Anyway, she took it back, and was just beginning to put it in place when a ship from a somewhat close polity had rocked up. As for why they were there... They had detected strange readings from that system and other nearby systems, consistent spatial anomalies. The result of Terikasolion's biowarp organs.

And so, there they found Terikasolion, carrying a chunk of diamond as large as herself to the surface of a planet.

An awe-inspiring sight, considering just how young that species was. Barely even a century in space. They had yet to see the true weirdness this universe had to offer. So, having come across Terikasolion as their first introduction, especially in such a situation...

Hmph...

The polity's name was the Servacuan Mandate. Primary species, the Solook, a race of plant-like, long-lived, generally charismatic beings. Their species grew up on a continental world. Because of their generally peaceful nature, abundant supply of resources, and mutual charisma, they had cooperated more than they had fought, allowing universal advancement and development.

Their species tended towards spiritualistic views of things. According to the primary religion, all things were alive, though not all things were alive in the same way. A rock was a simple existence. A mountain, an old and stubborn one. A family was, itself, alive in a way that extended past its members.

Air was a vehicle of life. Light, too. Perhaps most notable was the view of fire, which took two forms. Fires of Destruction and Fires of Rebirth.

The first was hated. A senseless thing, existing only to destroy. The second was worshiped. Fire that burned away old growth to allow the new. A necessity, as their people had once over-populated and nearly drove the planet to exhaustion.

Anyway, back to Terikasolion, the ship had eventually left after observing her for quite some time, witnessing her use her breathe to shape and transform the diamond. They had taken what they had seen back to the Servacuan Mandate, where it had eventually been released to the public. After that, civilian ships and science ships had started visiting the system. Terikasolion didn't find them to be a threat, and since they kept their distance, didn't bother attacking them. This had continued for quite some time, and eventually, Terikasolion went into a deeper sleep, a sort of quasi-hibernation.

She had buried herself deep in her nest.

It seems, however, that greed and stupidity know no bounds. Pirates attacked the system, destroying the majority of the civilian vessels and overwhelming what little military presence was there. After raiding them, the pirates had then made their way into Terikasolion's nest, intending to steal some of the vast amounts of precious resources there while Terikasolion was sleeping.

Terikasolion had not been asleep when they'd arrived. She'd woken up the moment the pirates had destroyed the other fleets, and when they'd started coming to her nest?

Hah.

Suffice to say, the pirates don't exist anymore.

The military of the Servacuan Mandate arrived just in time to witness it. What a sight it must have been to them. A dragon's full fury...

No wonder that their religion latched onto her. They saw her as an embodiment of the Fires of Rebirth.

"Shouldn't something be done?" Morokosagath asked.

"Eh, it's fine."

"Truly?" Morokosagath questioned. "But, your request?"

"My request was that your kind would not destroy life for no reason." I noted. "Destruction born of self-defence, protection of others, or protection of territories was permitted. The fact that Terikasolion has become an object of worship has nothing to do with my request. It was their choice, not her demand."

"... Even if she's become insufferable for it?" Morokosagath asked again, resigned.

"Even then." I let my amusement creep into my tone.

Morokosagath's body curled, his scales undulating. I chuckled at him. "Don't worry my dear. She'll grow out of her vanity one day."

"That day cannot come too soon."


End file.
